Just Call Him Cupid X
by lcopperfield
Summary: Comic follow-up to "Challenge of the Masked Racer, Revisited" Revised . A bedridden Speed doesn't make a very good patient--he's fuming because he can't take Trixie to the drive-in like he's promised! In steps Racer X to help the lovers out. COMPLETE!
1. Chapter 1

_DISCLAIMER: All SPEED RACER characters are property of Speed Racer Enterprises, Inc. This is a comic follow-up to "Challenge of the Masked Racer, Revisited." Again, kudos to my co-author/editor, Janee Rutledge, for helping me set the body of this slice of Racer family comic chaos—including a few of Spritle's pranks on Speed! Some more Rex/Spritle and Rex/Speed brother-bonding in later chapters..._

_Chapt. 1 Going Home _

_**Boy, am I ever glad to be out of that hospital bed! If I don't see another IV line or have to **__**deal with any more shots for the rest of my life, that'd be fine with me--I HATE hospital **__**stays. What I hate even more though, is being told to stay in bed even when I know I'm **__**perfectly ok.--But hey, I'm a Racer. And I guess we Racer men just don't make very good **__**patients. (Just ask my mom and Trixie about that!!)**_

_**--**_Speed Racer, on hospitals, IV lines, and staying in bed longer than necessary**--**

The day after the Trans-Country Race Speed was sent home from the hospital, under strict orders from his family physician to rest in bed for the next three to four days. No overexcitement, nothing strenuous..And definitely, no driving. Just complete bed rest.

Not that Speed could squawk much about it. He was still too wiped out from yesterday's events, to put up much of a fight--although he did protest loudly in front of his family and Racer X last night, that much he did remember. Thankfully, the physical damage from the kidnapping/fire/race was minimal: some nasty rope burns, a small amount of smoke inhalation, considerable dehydration and an extreme case of exhaustion. Mentally, however...

...That was a different story.

It hadn't been an easy night for the young racer after his family and friends had left his hospital room. Encouraged by his nurses, Speed had tried to go to sleep on his own, and for a while had succeeded in doing so—until his sleep was disrupted by a terrifying nightmare around one in the morning.

It wasn't the actual kidnapping that bothered Speed, although he could still feel the achiness and tightness in his wrists long after Racer X had set him free. He also could still hear the cruel taunts of his guards rattling his mind. It was the fire in the basement—the accidental inferno that nearly cost both him and Racer X their lives—that terrified him the most. The brutal images kept assaulting his mind like a set of sharp daggers, twisting over and over. The dream sequence was so vivid and disturbing, his screams could be heard all the way down the corridor outside his room to the nurses' station. Shortly afterwards he'd been given a mild sedative, and back to sleep Speed went.

So it came as no surprise the next morning, that he was still a little groggy when Trixie came to take him home. "Knock, knock!" a smiling Trixie called out, entering her boyfriend's hospital room. She carried with her a bag containing a fresh change of clothes for Speed, and a small tape recorder. "How's my favorite racing star?"

A groggy Speed looked up from his breakfast. He was sitting up in bed, no longer hooked up to the IV—it had been removed an hour before, once Dr. Wilson had given him the okay to go home. He grinned tiredly when he saw his favorite girl walk in. "Hey, Trixie. I see you got my message," he said, reaching over to hug Trixie. "Other than still being sore and awfully tired, I'm a lot better than I was last night."

She laughed. "That's putting things mildly. Your mom was a little surprised when you called about seven-thirty this morning to say you were coming home," Trixie said, her eyes sparkling as she set the duffle bag on the bed. "And yes, I did bring the tape recorder. What'd the doctor say when you asked him about taping your testimony for that meeting today?"

"Actually...he thought it was a good idea. Thought it might help me get over what happened, quicker. He even offered to ask the questions." Speed paused, then pushed aside his breakfast tray. He swung his feet over the edge of the bed, and stood up, albeit rather shakily. Trixie held on to him, trying to steady him. "Now, let me at my clothes, will you?"

Trixie giggled. "Not until I give you...This." She gave a startled Speed a quick kiss on the cheek.

Speed blushed. A quirky grin crossed his face. "Okay, that...That makes me feel a lot better. But I think, something's missing." He proceeded to sweep Trixie into his arms, surprising her with an unabashed long kiss.

Trixie looked a little stunned. She hadn't expected that...! " What was that for, Speed?"

"That...was for standing by my family yesterday. And this...is because, I feel like it." Speed kissed her again.

Uh, huh. Your typical teenage romance. So what else is new?

Just then, there was a knock at the door. It swung open, and in walked flame-haired Mrs. McAllister, the head nurse on the morning shift. She had come to do one last vitals check on Speed, before his doctor came to see him. As the fifty-something woman was the old-fashioned sort when it came to romance, one could just imagine her reaction to the two teens sitting on Speed's bed, locked in a very romantic embrace and generally acting like a pair of lovebirds. "Mr. Racer!" the nurse exclaimed, a look of shocked disapproval registering on her face when she saw what was happening. "I know you're happy to see your girlfriend, but this is _not _Inspiration Point. Nor is it some cheesy motel room. This is a hospital, which is most certainly NOT a place for public displays of affection! I suggest that you save the romance for when you get home!"

Speed and Trixie looked up, horrified. Quickly, they broke apart when they caught sight of Mrs. McAllister's stern gaze. Busted...!! "Uh...Hi, Mrs. McAllister!" Speed gulped, his face turning a bright red.

"Now there'll be no hanky-panky or other such nonsense, while I'm in this room,' Mrs. McAllister admonished, pulling a blood pressure cuff from the pocket of her uniform. "Hold out your arm, so I can take your blood pressure." She wrapped the cuff around Speed's upper left arm, and proceeded to check his blood pressure. She also checked his temperature and pulse as well. "And you may want to get dressed when I'm done here. Dr. Wilson will be down in ten minutes, with your release papers and home care instructions."

Speed couldn't stop blushing. By now, his face was completely crimson with embarrassment. "Ummm...Yes, ma'am!"

Finally, the nurse was finished charting his vitals. "All right, Mr. Racer. Everything looks good, you're free to get dressed," Mrs. McAllister announced.

Immediately, Trixie began to help Speed unpack his clothes (how many blue polo shirts, pairs of white pants, and red socks did this kid own, anyways??) from the duffle bag on the bed. "Here. Let me help you with that, Speed."

Speed smiled. "Thanks, Trixie."

Suddenly, someone coughed behind them. _"A-hem!!"_

The couple turned. There was Speed's nurse, standing with one hand on the curtain and frowning at them. "Young lady, I'm afraid you'll have to leave," Mrs. McAllister said crossly.

Trixie was mortified. "But...But I was just helping Speed get his clothes out!" she protested.

"It doesn't matter! It's not proper for a young lady, to see a young man in the nude. Unless of course, they're married. And I highly doubt, you two are married." The matronly woman motioned for Trixie to leave. "Now leave the room, miss. Or I will escort you out, myself."

Speed looked worriedly at Trixie. She stood there, clenching her fists and fuming. "No, I won't leave the room!"

Speed sighed, and shook his head. After all the pleasant nurses who took care of him last night...He had to get one whose temperment rivalled Pops'! There had to be a way to end this stalemate...

Suddenly, a solution came to him. "Listen, Mrs. McAllister. I've got an idea," Speed spoke up, grinning broadly. "Trixie can go sit in that armchair over by the TV set. Then I can close the curtain, and get dressed. Besides—it doesn't take me that long, to change."

The nurse thought over his suggestion. At length, she grudgingly agreed to it. "Oh, very well!" Mrs. McAllister mumbled, pressing her lips together. "Just be quick about it. And NO funny business!" Pulling the curtain close around Speed, she then walked out of the room, muttering to herself something about "_these unchaperoned teenagers nowadays. If she were my daughter, such behavior would be quickly remedied!"_

The room fell silent for a few moments. Trixie went over to the armchair in the corner by the TV set, and sat down. She was still stewing over the nurse's caustic remarks.

Finally, she exploded. "The nerve of that woman! Boy, am I glad she's not my mother!" Trixie pouted. "She's a scary one."

A moment later, Speed's cheerful face popped out from behind the curtain. "You think that's bad, Trix. You should've heard her lecture me this morning at breakfast, over racing cars at my age," he called out, wincing a bit at the memory. "She was worse than Pops, on one of his good days!"

Trixie giggled, and relaxed. Speed drew back the curtain a few minutes later and stepped out, dressed and ready to go. "Now, that's scary! But, Speed. With their personalities...If Pops were to be hospitalized again for anything, can you imagine what'd it be like if he had _her,_ for his nurse?"

He thought about that picture a moment, and let out a loud, boyish laugh. "Trix, c'mon. You're making me laugh!" Speed gasped, between laughs. "But you're right, I gotta wonder who would drive who crazier. Pops, or 'Nurse-zilla' McAllister!"

For a moment, the two teens just looked at each other, and grinned. Then they both cracked up with laughter over the idea of Speed's dad, trying to deal with the nurse from hell. Speed was laughing so hard, he suddenly went into a violent coughing fit—a painful reminder that he wasn't one hundred percent recovered from the previous day's ordeal. "Speed!" Trixie exclaimed, alarmed. She thumped him on the back once or twice, until he stopped coughing. "Are you okay?"

Speed gasped, and grimaced. "Yeah. I'll be fine, Trixie. Just a little reminder about that fire..."

Moments later, his facial expression changed into a big grin. "Well, now we wait for Dr. Wilson. Then—I'm outta here, and boy, will it be good to get home," Speed said, winking at Trixie. "I can't wait!"

Trixie laughed. "Bye-bye, 'Nurse-zilla'!"

--


	2. Chapter 2

_Chapt. 2 Back to Normal_

"All right, Speed, I think that does it." Dr. Brendan Wilson smiled at his restless patient as he handed the small tape recorder back to Speed. "How do you feel?"

Speed sat on the edge of his hospital bed, with Trixie by his side. He ran a hand through his thick, dark hair, grimacing as he did so. "Well--" he hesitated. "It did help a lot, I guess." The entire taping had taken about an hour to complete, although it wasn't always smooth sailing; at certain points during the interview Speed's raw emotions had come out, and he found himself clinging to Trixie several times as he tried to fight through them. "I still feel awfully tired and kind of weak. And that nightmare I had last night, didn't help much either."

"Well, you're probably going to have a few of those for a while. And your body's still in the process of absorbing all that excess adrenaline from yesterday, so you're going to feel tired and weak for a few days. That's why I want you to get as much bed rest as possible. I'll be stopping by the house on Saturday, to have another look at you." The tall, silver-haired physician rose from his chair. "The nurse'll be back in a few minutes, for you to sign your discharge papers. After that, you'll be ready to go. Take care, Speed." Dr. Wilson said, clapping a friendly hand on Speed's shoulder.

Speed nodded. "Thanks, Dr. Wilson."

About five minutes later, another nurse entered the room. Luckily for Speed, it wasn't Mrs. McAllister, the head nurse. "All right, Speed. Just sign this right here," the young woman said with a smile, handing Speed a printed form to sign. "And these are your follow-up instructions. Now go home and get some rest, young man!"

Trixie couldn't help but speak up, while Speed signed his discharge papers. "Oh, no need to worry about that," she declared, holding onto his arm. "I'll make sure, he gets his rest."

Speed eyed her with a bewildered look. "Hey, Trixie. Come on, are you trying to be my nurse now?"

Trixie's face dimpled. "And why not?" she replied, her eyes twinkling merrily. "Think about it, Speed. Which would you rather have taking care of you—me and your mom, or...Well, you know who I'm talking about?"

Speed grinned. He didn't have to think about that one, at all. He'd take his girlfriend and his mother over "Nurse-zilla"--that snooty, nosy Mrs. McAllister--anyday! "Ah—good point." He paused, and winked teasingly at Trixie. "So does this mean, I get to see you in a cute little nurse's outfit now?"

"Oooh!! Why, youuu...!! Speeeed!!" A red-faced Trixie lightly thumped her wide-eyed boyfriend with her purse.

Speed ducked, wincing as the blow glanced off his right shoulder. "Owww!! Hey, Trixie, c'mon! I'm supposed to be recovering. Not getting injured again!" he pleaded, giving Trixie his best "have sympathy for me!" look. In reply, Trixie playfully turned her nose up at Speed and pretended to ignore him.

Uh, huh. Nice try, Speed. As if that ploy will work on your girl.

By ten-thirty, Speed was ready to leave. Duffle bag slung over one shoulder, racing trophy in hand, he and Trixie were about to step out into the corridor when Speed's dad and little brother entered the room. "Morning, Speed!" Pops boomed, pleased to see his son up and about. He was wearing a light blue business suit and a tie, while Spritle was in his usual red overalls. "I see you're ready to go home. How do you feel, son?"

Speed smiled. "To tell you the truth, Pops, better than I did last night. But I still feel kind of tired," he replied. "Don't worry, Trixie's taking me straight home."

His father nodded his approval. "Good! I just got done talking to Dr. Wilson. If you follow his instructions, he doesn't see why you shouldn't be ready to race next weekend," Pops said. "Now you just go home, give your mom a big hug, then get right to bed." He wrapped a huge, sinewy arm around Speed's shoulders, and hugged him.

As if to confirm his father's suggestion, Speed yawned and rubbed his eyes. "You won't get an argument from me on that, Pops."

At length, the subject of the Racing Committee meeting came up. "Oh! By the way, Pops. I want you to give this to the Racing Committee chairman, " Speed said, handing his father the small tape recorder he'd taken from his pants pocket.

Pops took it, puzzled. "Eh? What's this?"

"My taped testimony about what happened yesterday at Wiley's place. Dr. Wilson was nice enough to work with me on it." Speed's face bore a serious expression. "It wasn't easy, some things were still hard to deal with. But I figured if I can't be at that meeting, I can at least send this over for everyone to hear."

"A smart idea, Speed!" Pops agreed. "I'll make sure, Inspector Detector gets a copy of this, too. Dr. Wilson doesn't think it's wise for you to be questioned further about your ordeal, not just yet." He affectionately patted Speed on the shoulder. "Now go on, you two. Get out of here."

Trixie beamed. "Yes, before we have another run-in with 'Nurse-zilla'!"

Speed made a wry face. "Don't remind me! The woman's a walking nightmare!"

Little Spritle looked up at his big brother, confused. "Huhh?? Nurse-zilla??" he repeated slowly. "What's a Nurse-zilla, Speed? Is it anything like, Godzilla??"

Both Speed and Trixie laughed. "We'll explain that, later. When you guys get home," Speed said, giving his baby brother a playful swat on the arm. "Now, go along. You don't want to make Pops late for that meeting!"

The teens and Pops parted ways once the foursome got out to the parking lot. Before getting into Trixie's yellow convertible, Speed felt there was something he just had to do--he had to grab his little brother Spritle and give him the biggest hug he could. Grinning ludicrously, he grabbed the little boy and began to squeeze him in a friendly embrace. "Hey! Speed! What's that's for?" Spritle cried out, caught off guard by the older boy's affectionate gesture.

The smile on Speed's face widened. "Let's just say, that's what I didn't get to do last night. That's for the good work yesterday, Spritle," he answered softly, thinking back to the events of yesterday. "If you hadn't gotten to Pops and Racer X, I'd just still might be in Wiley's clutches right now." He shuddered at the thought.

Spritle looked up at him with those brown, saucer-like eyes. "But Speed, it was your idea to spring me! I'm just glad, you're gonna be ok now," the youngster responded, hugging his big brother back in return. "I'm glad, you and Racer X are ok--"

"Yeah. So am I, Spritle. So am I." The expression on Speed's face changed to a wistful one.

Suddenly, he changed the subject. "Say, did anyone get those bulls-eyes away from Chim Chim last night? I could've used a few this morning," Speed said, looking around.

Spritle sadly shook his head. "No. Chim Chim ate 'em all while he was hiding under your hospital bed," the lad answered.

Speed groaned, and made a face. "Aw, nuts! I wanted those, too!"

"Well, if it makes you feel any better, Chim Chim soon regretted his actions. He ended up with quite the bellyache from all that candy," Pops added, with a laugh. "We'll see you when we get home from the meeting, Speed."

Speed nodded. "Right! Let me know how it goes, Pops. Give Racer X and the other drivers, my regards." He quickly got into the front passenger seat of Trixie's car. "And tell Racer X, thanks—again."

"I will.--Come on, Spritle. We don't want to be late." Pops headed for his car.

"I'm coming, Pops!" Spritle hollered, running as fast as his small legs could carry him.

Speed and Trixie watched with amusement as Pops drove off. "Sometimes I just don't understand your father, Speed," Trixie said, getting ready to start the car. "One minute he acts like he's the Godzilla of the racetrack, and the next he's like a big ol' teddy bear!"

Speed laughed. "Well, that's Pops for you," he replied, stretching out in his seat. "One way or another, you gotta love 'em."

Love Speed, love his family...

Some forty-five minutes later, Speed walked through the front door of the Racer home, relieved to be back in familiar surroundings. To him, he'd had enough of hospitals, doctors and egotistical nurses, to last him a lifetime. Almost immediately as he and Trixie entered the living room,he got a whiff of something good baking in the oven. _Mom must be making her famous chocolate chip cookies again, _the young racer mused.

He drew in a deep breath, savoring the aroma snaking its way out of the kitchen. "Umm! Smell those cookies, Trixie!" Speed exclaimed, as he set his trophy on a nearby coffee table and slid the duffle bag off his shoulder to the carpeted floor. "Man, it's great to be home again."

Trixie smiled. "Um, hmm! I just hope Spritle and Chim Chim'll leave us some of those cookies," she teased.

Her boyfriend scowled. "They'd better!" Speed answered, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Else I just might make the Mach 5's trunk permanently off-limits, to those two clowns." He paused, then grinned madly. "Hey, wait a minute, Trixie. Spritle's not here at the moment. All we have to worry about is Chim Chim!"

Just then, Speed's mother came into the living room from the kitchen. Naturally, Mrs. Racer was overjoyed to have her second son back home, and she let Speed know that in no uncertain terms when the two embraced. "Speed! It's good to have you back, sweetie," she said, hugging him warmly and kissing him lightly on the forehead. "We were really worried about you, dear. You look a lot better, really."

Speed felt himself blushing—again. How many times did that make now this morning? Four times, at least? "Tell that to the rest of my body, Mom. I'm still kinda wiped out and a bit achy all over," he replied with a weak smile. He rubbed lightly at his still-bandaged wrists.

"Well, you just get yourself right upstairs, and lie down. I'll bring a plate of cookies up to you and Trixie, when they're ready." Mrs. Racer smiled, and ushered her son up the stairs. Trixie went with him, carrying his duffle bag for him. "And, Trixie. Thank you for picking Speed up this morning."

Trixie just smiled back. " No problem, Mrs. Racer. I was glad to do it."

Later that day, after Trixie had left and his father and little brother had returned from the Racing Association meeting, Speed lay stretched out on his bed, relaxing and thinking. Hands clasped behind his head, he reflected briefly on the events of the past two days. _God, it feels good to be lying in my own bed again, instead of lying on that awful sofa all tied up! Pops was right--I sure didn't use my head the night Wiley's thugs nailed me. I won't make that mistake, ever again! I'm just glad things are back to normal around here, and Pops is in a good mood today. I'm also glad that snake Wiley, got what he deserved--being banned from racing, for good. I knew that his heading the Alpha Team would get him in trouble with the Trans-Country Race committee..._Holding that thought in his mind, Speed closed his eyes and went to sleep.

Back to normal, Speed? We'll see...

--


	3. Chapter 3

_**Note: **__I got the idea for Pops' reaction to Speed later sneaking out to the garage and sitting in the Mach 5 from the original episode, "The Fastest Car On Earth." Specifically, the scene where Pops physically hauls Speed out to the back yard over his shoulder for "The Treatment."--Goes to show ya, Speed's never too old or too big for Pops to toss over his shoulder for a little...Discipline??_

_Chapt. 3 Speed Racer, The Impatient Patient_

_"Son, I told you Sunday night at the hospital, we were gonna discuss this whole kidnap/racing thing when you got home. It wasn't only foolish of you to race in your condition, it was downright dangerous! Why, if you'd been driving the Mach 5 on the street like that, you would've been pulled over in a New York minute for impaired driving!" _So began Speed's third day home in bed, having to endure yet another one of his father's infamous driving lectures. Pops Racer had taken the day off from work to be with both of his sons (but especially Speed), and one of the first things he did that morning was make good on his threat to occupy Speed's time--with a little lecture on driving in poor physical condition. "If you hadn't been so stubborn and persistent about running the Trans-Country Race without any kind of rest, I'd like to think you would've never seen the inside of a hospital room—_SPEEED!! ARE YOU EVEN LISTENING TO ME??" _Pops suddenly shouted, exasperated by the fact that his son wasn't paying attention to him.

No, Pops, Speed wasn't listening. His mind was elsewhere—like how to convince his family, to let him go with Trixie to the drive-in on Friday night!

It was funny how some guys had trouble dealing with something as simple as, following doctor's orders and staying in bed. Speed clearly was among that group, though for the first day or two he proved to be the model patient by resting in bed just as Dr. Wilson had instructed him to. Initially, he had no problem complying with the doctor's orders, as his body was still dictating how much activity he could—or couldn't--handle; most of the time, the teen racer was asleep for a good part of the day. And although the nightmares of the fire in Wiley's basement weren't nearly as horrific as the one he had in the hospital, the dreams were still frightening enough to bring both his parents running into his room late at night and staying for more than an hour, trying to reassure the terrified teen. Still, he had plenty of visitors: Trixie was a constant visitor, as was Sparky. There were other visitors as well, including several of his fellow drivers who'd been involved in Sunday's race.

That included Racer X. Speed relished the hours spent in the company of his idol, talking racing and listening to the Masked Racer's account of the meeting in the track president's office that Monday morning. It certainly helped to pass the time, and for a while the nightmares that had been plaguing the young man were all but pushed out of his mind.

Even little Spritle was doing his best to be helpful. Running Speed's mail up to him (plenty of fan mail and get-well wishes, and all that just after one race!)...Bringing up magazines for him to read...Taking his meal trays, etc. For a time, things at the Racer home seemed to be settling back into a normal routine...

But then...The third day of house confinement got to be too much for the young racer to bear. He started to get restless...and, itching to get back into the Mach 5.

Oh, those Itchy ignition fingers! They're about to get him in trouble. Big time.

Pops stared crossly at his bedridden son. "Speed!! I'm talking to you!! Didn't you hear a word I just said??"

Speed nearly rolled out of his bed onto the floor, startled back into reality by the sound of his father's booming voice. "What...? What'd you say, Trixie—I mean, Pops??" he hastily corrected himself. His face turned bright red, as soon as he realized his fuming dad was giving him a really dirty look. "What did you ahh, say?"

Pops wasn't amused by his attempt to cover up his real thoughts. "Speed, that wasn't very funny. Do I _look _like Trixie??" he retorted, highly annoyed.

A sheepish-looking Speed swallowed hard. _Oh, boy, now I've done it. But I don't want to be stuck in the house all weekend! _was his immediate thought. "Ahh...Uhh...No."

"Then would you care to explain yourself, and tell me just what you meant by that little slip-up?" His father stood in front of him, arms folded across his chest and acting as if he were waiting for an answer from Speed. Which, he was.

Speed just shook his head, and lay back against his pillows. "I'm not sure you'd understand, Pops," he murmured.

Pops quickly sensed where the gist of that comment was going, and relaxed. "Oh? Just try me," he responded, coming over and sitting on the edge of his unhappy son's bed. "I was a teenager once upon a time too, you know."

A nervous Speed sighed. It was probably better for him to tell his dad the truth, than to let him think he was lying about something. "It's just that...It's just that I was thinking about my date with Trixie Friday night. You know, I was supposed to take her out to the drive-in—-that new Elvis film, _Clambake, _is playing and we both really want to see it..." Speed's voice trailed off.

"Hmmm! I see." Pops sat there, thoughtfully stroking his chin. In a way, he did understand how Speed was feeling at that moment. Besides being a racing prodigy, Speed was also a typical teenager with the usual teenage emotions and needs. His devotion to Trixie was nothing short of phenomenal to many people--especially those who didn't know the Racer clan very well. Pops himself had seen this relationship blossom since the time Speed and Trixie were preteens, and he was delighted with the path their friendship had taken. Not only did Speed and Trixie work well together professionally, but she was the sort of young woman any family would be proud to have as a member. As it were, Trixie was already a regular fixture in the Racer household, and in their world where boys were the norm both Pops and Mrs. Racer adored her like a daughter—she was the only person other than his own mom, who seemed to be able to make Speed get a grip on himself at times!

Still, it was hard for Pops to tell his restless son, the Friday night drive-in movie date was out. He had to do it, though, and tried to be as tactful as he could. "I'm sorry, son, but that's out of the question," the elder Racer began, gently laying a hand on Speed's shoulder. "I know, you hate the idea of staying in bed like this. But the key phrase here is, 'complete bed rest.' You're not to leave this house, until you've been cleared by Dr. Wilson."

"But I feel a lot better, Pops! And I won't be driving!" Speed began to protest. "Trixie will!"

"That's not the point, Speed! The point is, you're under a doctor's care right now, and both your mother and I expect you to comply with Dr. Wilson's instructions. That's all there is to it—if you want to get back on your feet quickly," Pops said firmly. "Now, Trixie's been coming over here like clockwork, ever since she brought you home three days ago from the hospital. I'm sure, she'll understand the situation...Your health comes first, over some Friday night movie date."

He pulled the bedcovers up around a dejected Speed's neck. "Now. Since your mind isn't on the conversation we were having this morning. Why don't you read this, until Mom brings your lunch up?" Pops lightly suggested, handing a baffled Speed a copy of the Formula One racing handbook. "Especially the section on physical conditioning. You know you'll have to pass a complete physical before you're allowed back on the track, so that's all the more reason to listen to the doctor about this."

Speed started to protest yet again. But a stern look from his father quickly sent the recuperating teen back under the covers. "Speed? That's my final word on it. Now, no more back talk from you. Or else I'll just take the keys to the Mach 5 away from you--permanently!" Pops snapped. "Now, get some rest!"

"But, Pops--"

"Don't you 'but Pops!' me! Mind what I said, Speed." Pops started to leave the room--but not before spying his son's car keys on the dresser. Immediately, that gave the burly ex-wrestler-turned-car designer an idea. "Hmmm! And maybe to give you a little more incentive to rest..." Pops picked up the key ring, then made a show of pocketing it, much to poor Speed's dismay and disbelief. "...I'll just take these, for safekeeping."

Then chuckling, he walked out of the bedroom.

Poor Speed sat straight up in bed, glaring after his father. He couldn't believe, what had happened--Pops had just walked off with the keys to the Mach 5! "No fair, Pops!" he yelled, frustrated. "That's blackmail!"

He heard his father's booming laugh out in the hallway. "Actually...no it's not blackmail, son. I call it...'Creative discipline'!" was Pops' jovial reply.

"Creative discipline, my foot!" Speed muttered, once his father was out of earshot. He dropped back among his pillows, and blew a heavy sigh. "I feel like, I'm being held prisoner again—this time, by my own family!" He turned over and pounded a fist into his pillow, determined to find some way of getting out of his bed and at least walk around the house...

Score? Pops and the doctor 1, Speed 0!

Out in the hallway, a flustered Pops bumped into his wife. Mrs. Racer had just come upstairs with a basket of freshly-folded laundry, and was about to put it away before starting the family's lunch. "Something wrong, dear?" she asked, noticing the exasperated look on her husband's face.

Pops blew a heavy sigh. "Ohh! I tell you, sweetheart. That son of ours, is gonna drive me crazy! Speed and that thick head of his," the big man replied, a sour expression on his face. "I'm not sure whether we should tie that boy down, or have Dr. Wilson come over and give him some kind of sleeping injection...!"

Mom Racer eyed him with a wry glance. "All right, dear. What did Speed do now?" she inquired, with a light chuckle.

Pops made a face. "He won't stay in bed, that's what! He doesn't seem to realize the seriousness of his condition, and he's refusing to listen to the doctor's orders," he replied. "Would you believe, he still wants to take Trixie out to the drive-in Friday night??"

His wife merely smiled. "Well, dear. If I recall, you didn't exactly make a good patient yourself, whenever you got sick," Mrs. Racer replied teasingly, remembering all the times Pops had gotten sick and wasn't the easiest patient to have in the house.

Pops's face went completely red in a matter of seconds. "But I'm not talking about me! I'm talking about Speed! How is he gonna recover in time for next week's Western 500, if he's going out here and there instead of resting in bed like Dr. Wilson ordered him to?" he huffed, Despite the outward gruffness, it was clear that Pops was concerned that Speed was trying to push things to the limit--as usual.

And as she usually did when things got out of control with her family, Speed's mother had a solution at hand. "Well, then, I think I have an answer to that problem. Just tell Speed, he has a choice to make: A) he goes out with Trixie, he'll have to skip next week's race because he won't be physically ready to race or B), skips going out and concentrates on getting completely well so he can enter next week's race. It's up to him," Mom Racer said softly, smiling . "I think I know our boy well enough, he'll make the right choice. And, give us less fuss about it." She winked teasingly at Pops.

Her husband thoughtfully stroked his chin as he mulled over his wife's idea. "Choice, with a consequence...Dang! You know, this actually might work!" Pops exclaimed, relieved. "Now why didn't _I_ think of that?"

Again, that oh-so pleasant smile. "That's because you tend to roar first, ask questions later," Mrs. Racer answered with a slight laugh, and Pops gave her a quizzical look in return.

Here's something, people often forget about Speed and his family. Don't ever tell a Racer he can't do something--because he will always find a way to prove, he CAN.

Speed certainly felt that way. After the morning's fiasco with his father, he felt more determined than ever, to find some way of going out with Trixie as he'd promised. But first, he'd have to test the waters—he had to find a way, to get past his always-vigilant family.

His opportunity to test those limits came around lunchtime. His mother came into his bedroom about noon, carrying a lunch tray for her son. "Here you go, sweetheart," she said smoothly, setting the tray on the nightstand next to Speed's bed. "Enjoy your lunch."

Speed looked up, and smiled at his mom. He'd been reading some of his fan mail and get-well cards from the day before. "Huh? Oh! Lunch, already?" he said, putting down the card he'd been scanning onto a fairly neat pile of mail in front of him.

Mom Racer smiled sweetly at him. "Your favorite, Speed. Turkey on white, with lettuce and tomato. A glass of milk, and chocolate chip cookies for dessert." She lightly kissed Speed's forehead. "I'll send Spritle up for your tray, when you're done."

"OK, Mom. Thanks." Speed put aside his mail, and began to dig enthusiastically into his lunch.

About a half-hour later, Speed put the empty tray back on his nightstand. He sat on the edge of his bed, thinking how he might put his little scheme into action. _Enough of this lounging around all day in my pj's! I gotta get outta here--if only for even, fifteen minutes, _the young racer told himself as he gazed around his bedroom. He removed his pajama top, then went for a quick shower (taking care, of course, not to get his healing wrists too wet). Afterwards he got dressed, then quietly crept out of his bedroom into the hallway.

Fortunately, his family was too busy at the kitchen table with their lunch to notice the young man stealthily tip-toeing down the stairs and slithering his way to the garage door. A couple of times, though, Speed had to freeze up when he heard his dad's loud laugh coming from the direction of the kitchen. _So far, so good. Spritle and Mom are keeping Pops occupied, _Speed thought, keeping a close eye on the activity in the kitchen.

Cautiously, he opened the screen door that separated the main house from the garage, and slipped inside. There, sitting in the middle of the huge garage, sat his pride and joy. His "baby," if you will--his beloved Mach 5. "Ahh!" Speed exclaimed softly. His deep blue eyes lit up, like the lights on a Christmas tree. Wasting little time, he made a Le Mans-style running leap into the cockpit and settled into the plush red driver's seat, happy to be at least sitting behind the wheel of the Mach 5 if not outright driving it. A big grin broke across Speed's face as he relaxed, enjoying the feel of the steering wheel in his hands.

He sat there for what seemed to be an eternity, thinking about different things. Certainly, what Pops had tried to tell him this morning--he had to admit, his father had made some very valid points and generally, Speed understood where he was coming from. But it was just so hard for him to stay still for any given length of time—he still didn't know how he'd managed to survive being bound and gagged for as long as he had been that Sunday morning. Plus, he wanted to keep his word to Trixie..._Trixie. Oh, man, I suppose I'll just have to bite the bullet on this, and tell her up front about the no-go for Friday, _Speed sadly thought to himself. _I just wish, there were some way to get around Pops' and Mom's objections to us going out!_

Eventually, he began to daydream. _The Grand Prix...For the World Championship. It's me in the Mach 5, vs. Racer X in the Shooting Star. It's the last lap, and we're coming to the finish! It's--It's--_

By accident, his finger hit the button on the side of the steering column that controlled the Mach 5's horn. "AAAUGGHHH!!" Speed suddenly yelled, snapping out of his reverie and wincing at the sound. "For everything Pops put into this car...Couldn't he at least have put in a DECENT-SOUNDING HORN??"

Back in the kitchen, Pops and the rest of the family were at the table, enjoying their lunch and each other when the sound of a car horn in the garage disrupted things. It especially startled Spritle, who nearly fell out of his chair. "Hey, Pops! Somebody's in the garage!" the lad cried out, between bites of turkey sandwich. "That's the Mach 5's horn, and it sounded like Speed yelling!"

"What!!" Pops exclaimed, shocked.

"But I thought, Speed was upstairs! I brought him his lunch--" Mrs. Racer added, completely caught off guard.

The honking continued. So too, did Speed's panicky yelling as he attempted to shut down the horn--without the use of his car keys. Pops rose from his seat, his face bright red. "Ohh, that sneaky, conniving Speed! Wait 'til I get my hands on him!" the burly car designer sputtered, striding towards the garage. "Spritle, you stay here."

Spritle tried to protest. Beside him, Chim Chim attempted to swipe his cookies—as usual. "But, Pops--"

"I said, stay here!!" Pops roared.

That was enough to send both Spritle and Chim Chim screaming over to Mrs. Racer. "Mom...!!" Spritle bawled, and Chim Chim hooted nervously as Pops stormed off.

And today's weather report? Cloudy, with one hundred percent chance of...Yelling!! Break out those earplugs, Speed. You're gonna need 'em!

Pops hurried into the garage, a furious scowl on his face. There he found Speed relaxing in the cockpit of the Mach 5, blissfully unaware of the impending storm. "SPEED!!" his father bellowed crossly.

Uh, huh. Looks like Speed just got himself busted.

Speed looked up. His face turned as white as his pants when he saw Pops standing in the doorway, looking none too pleased with his middle son at that point. The senior Racer stood in the doorway, fuming, with his hands on his hips and giving poor Speed a very cross look. "Ahhhhh!! POPS!!" he gasped, startled. "What—what are YOU doing out here??"

Pops eyed his quaking son with displeasure. "That's funny, son. I was about to ask you, the same thing," he said, trying to maintain his cool about the situation but as usual, the color of his face gave away what he was really feeling. He stepped further into the garage, allowing the door to slam behind him.

Speed swallowed hard. "Um...H-honest, Pops, I wasn't planning on d-driving--!" he stammered, squirming in his seat. "I swear!"

His dad glared at him. "Well, of course you're not! Not since _I_ have the keys," Pops snapped. He pulled the keys to the Mach 5 from his pants pocket, and dangled them before a squirming Speed. "Remember this morning...?"

A red-faced, nervous Speed slowly started to slide his body out towards the passenger door. "Uhh...I guess I'll be going now?" He flashed a nervous grin at Pops.

Whoops! Bad move, Speed! That only infuriated Pops further. "Oh, no you don't!" the ex-wrestler rasped. "Get over here!!"

He reached into the Mach 5. Suddenly Pops grabbed Speed by the back of his belt, pulled him out of the car, then slung the shocked teen over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. "POPPPSSS--!!" Speed loudly protested, wide-eyed in disbelief. He certainly hadn't expected his own father, to put a move like that on _him--! _"What—What are you doing?? I'm not a little kid any more...!!"

"You're not that big, that I still can't take you over my shoulder if not my knee!" Pops countered. He carried a comically panic-stricken Speed away from the car like he was a feather. "Now back to bed with you, young man. And I MEAN IT!!"

"But, Pops--!! This is--This is so embarrassing! I hope Trixie doesn't come here, and have to see this--!!"

Spritle, meanwhile, heard the commotion in the garage. He slipped away from the kitchen table, with Chim Chim in tow. Together, they ran to the garage to investigate. Opening the screen door, they saw a huffing, puffing Pops coming towards them, with a struggling, yelling Speed over his shoulder. _"Put me down!! You can't--Pops, you can't do this to me...!!" _the two heard Speed complain.

Then, Spritle heard his dad's sharp, loud reply. _"Oh yes I can, son, and I will!!"_

Spritle and Chim Chim giggled softly. For Spritle, this was a chance to tweak his big brother for all the comments Speed had made in his hospital room about him not being big enough, to hold the older Racer boy's first-place trophy. "Here, Pops. Let me get the door for you," the little boy said, eager to help.

Pops beamed with pleasure at his youngest son's helpfulness. "Why, thank you, Spritle. At least one of you boys is behaving today," he answered, stepping into the kitchen with his still-protesting load.

A scowling, red-faced Speed managed to catch a glimpse of his grinning baby brother as their father carried him through the house, en route to the staircase leading to the family bedrooms. "You little traitor!!" the flustered, embarrassed teenager shouted, pointing a finger at Spritle, "I'll--I'll deal with you and Chim Chim, later!"

Well, dear ol' Pops had something to say about that little would-be sibling argument. "You'll do no such thing, Speed!" he barked, tightening his grip on the back of Speed's shirt and pants as he strode towards the stairs. "The only thing you're going to do is, go right back into your bed!" He shifted Speed's weight slightly over his shoulder, and began to trek up the stairs with him.

Poor Speed could only close his eyes and screw his face up into a comic grimace. To paraphrase the title of an old Monkees tune, this just didn't seem to be his day! "Mom!! Do something!! Please!!" he pleaded helplessly with his mother.

Mom stopped the pair at the bottom of the staircase. "Now, you two. Isn't this a little much?" she asked, eying her husband and son with a look of concern.

Pops just chuckled. "Nonsense! I'm only doing this, for his own good," he responded breezily, reaching the top of the stairs. "You said it yourself, honey. He needs to make a choice--either he decides to go with Trixie and not be ready to race next weekend, or he stays home, recuperates, and races next week!"

Arriving at Speed's bedroom, Pops opened the door and walked in. "All right. In you go, son," he said, gently dropping a perturbed Speed down onto his bed.

Speed landed awkwardly with a loud "Oompf!!" "Oww! Hey!!--Pops, not so hard!" he exclaimed, shooting his smiling father an odd look. At the same time, he began to vigorously massage the right side of his butt, wincing as he did so. "What's the big idea??"

Pops came over to his bed and sat down on the edge. The smile disappeared moments later, replaced by a complete seriousness. He gazed intently at Speed.. "Sorry I had to do that, Speed, but I needed to get my point across," he said quietly, his demeanor softening somewhat. "Fighting Dr. Wilson's orders isn't going to help you get better quicker. If anything, it'll only make matters worse. Now, your mom and I both agree on this—until the doctor examines you on Saturday, you're staying in bed and resting quietly. Ah—now don't interrupt me while I'm speaking. That's my final word on the subject!" Pops said, seeing as how Speed was about to say something in protest. "Besides. If I catch you near the Mach 5 again before you're cleared to drive..." A pause, and a devious smile broke at the corners of the car designer's mouth at the thought. "...I just might spank you."

At that, Speed's face went completely pale. He huddled on his bed, sitting on his hands as if trying to protect his behind. "N-No! You--You wouldn't!" he gulped, wide-eyed with alarm.

His father eyed him dourly. "You wanna try me?"

Speed cringed with comic terror, and swallowed hard. "You would!!"

Outside Speed's bedroom door, his little brother Spritle and Chim Chim leaned in close, getting an earful of the goings-on inside. Both little spies giggled uncontrollably when they heard Pops playfully threaten Speed with a good old-fashioned spanking--now that would be a sight to see, in Spritle's opinion!

Unable to resist taking a jab at his big brother, Spritle cautiously cracked open the door to Speed's room, and poked his head inside. "You'd better listen to him, Speed. Unless you really want a good butt-warming!" the little boy cheerfully called out.

An irritated Speed abruptly snapped his head around, just in time to see a giggling Spritle pull out of the room. "Hey! You stay out of this, Spritle!" he growled. "Mind your own business!"

"Spritle!! That's enough!" their father commanded. "Your brother needs to rest. And as for you, Speed...Get into bed. NOW!!"

Poor Speed! He threw his hands up into the air in defeat. "Ok, OK! You win!" he sighed, taking off his loafers and sliding under his covers afterwards. Then in a half-audible aside he muttered, "I can't believe this. I'm getting picked on--by both my dad, AND my little brother!" With that, he comically hid his head beneath his pillows, completely embarrassed.

Let's see. As the commercial for MasterCard would say...

Candy for Spritle: Thirty dollars.

Overnight stay in hospital: Seven hundred dollars.

Look on Speed's face when his father throws him over his shoulder...

...Priceless!

--


	4. Chapter 4

**Note: **_This chapter might be a little long, but I wanted to focus a little on the Racer X/Speed brother link._

_Chapt. 4 The Visit_

That same afternoon, Trixie Shimura arrived at the Racer house for her daily visit with Speed, unaware of the chaos her boyfriend had created earlier within his family. A soft breeze gently rippled through her short, bouncy brown hair as she turned into the long, wide driveway and pulled her yellow convertible up to the garage door. She brought with her one of Speed's favorite treats, a freshly-made lemon meringue pie.

She wasn't the only person with that idea, however. Racer X was also en route to the house, intent on checking in with his convalescing younger brother. He too had a gift for Speed, the latest copy of his favorite auto racing magazine. _Got to keep Speed's mind busy while he recuperates, _was the Masked Racer's reasoning. _If he's anything like Pops and me when it comes to being sick in bed, I just bet he's driving everyone crazy at this point._

Rex, you have no idea how right you are!

He rolled the sleek, black and yellow form of the Shooting Star to an effortless halt behind Trixie's convertible just as the young woman was getting out, pie in hand. "Trixie!" Racer X called out with a smile.

Trixie looked up. Her face lit up in surprise when she saw the tall, muscular masked figure in the white racing suit leap over the side of his car and begin to walk towards her. "Why, Racer X!" she exclaimed, closing her car door. "I wasn't expecting you to be here."

The Masked Racer chuckled heartily. "Looks like we both had the same Idea," he replied. He then spied the pie that Trixie was holding, and a small tight smile broke at the corners of his mouth. "Ah, ha! Lemon meringue pie!" X exclaimed jokingly. "Trying to bribe the patient into behaving, are we?"

She laughed, her face dimpling. "And what if I am? I see you didn't come empty-handed, either," Trixie playfully shot back, noticing the magazine in X's hand.

"That's true, but your little present is edible. Mine isn't." Beneath the mask, Rex Racer smiled. He found a lot to admire (and like) in his younger brother's choice of a girlfriend. Trixie was smart, well-trained in aviation and the martial arts, clearly cool under fire, an excellent navigator and spotter, able to speak her mind when need be. Not to mention, very attractive and an excellent cook...

..._And probably the only person outside of Mom and myself, who can get through to Speed and bring him back down to earth at times, _Rex ruefully told himself. _Better hold onto her, little brother. A girl like Trixie, is a rare gem these days indeed!_

He and Trixie started for the house. They were greeted at the door by Mom Racer, who despite her obvious frazzled state still managed to maintain her natural graciousness and warmth. "Trixie, dear. Do come in, " Speed's mom said, ushering the visitors inside. "I see you brought one of Speed's favorites. He'll really appreciate that."

Trixie laughed softly. "Oh, I know he will, Mrs. Racer. Speed keeps begging me to make him one, almost every time I see him lately," she replied, her eyes sparkling with pleasure. "I thought this time, I'd might surprise him."

"Well, I'd say, he'll be surprised. Especially when he sees this handsome fellow in the mask here." Mom Racer's eyes fell upon the masked figure standing next to Trixie, and she grinned. "I know Speed will be delighted to see you too, Racer X."

Racer X inclined his head. "Well, that's why I'm here, Mrs. Racer. I thought Speed could use some company. Of course, I hadn't counted on Trixie being here at the same time." Speed's elder brother chuckled, then quietly inquired, "And how is Speed doing?"

Mom let out an exasperated sigh, something that didn't go unnoticed by either Trixie or Rex. "Actually, I'm glad you two are here," she answered, as she led the pair upstairs. "I don't know, perhaps you can talk some sense into Speed. He's...Getting to be a handful!"

As if to emphasize her point, a sudden loud child's screech mixed with the infectious, chortling laugh of a teenage boy erupted from Speed's bedroom. An unsuspecting Spritle had just delivered the day's mail to his convalescing big brother—and now Speed had seized an opportunity to lay a little payback on his baby brother for the morning's earlier disaster with Pops! Speed had his little brother cornered on his bed, and was now tickling the living daylights out of him. "_SPEEEED!! THAT—THAT TICKLES!! I'M GONNA TELL POPS AND MOM , YOU'RE OUTTA BED AGAIN...MOMMMM!!"_

_"Tattle-tale! I told you, I'd getchya for making fun of me this morning--Take that. And, that!!"_

Then, Spritle's voice again. This time, commanding Chim Chim to save him. "_Chim Chim! Save me from this big ol' Speed tickle monster!!" _That was followed by an overexcited Chim Chim screeching at a laughing, gasping Speed and making all kinds of loud chimp noises, then the sound of bumping as bodies tangled on Speed's bed in a hilarious wrestling match.

Mom clapped a hand to her face, and shook her head in disbelief. Speed just didn't know when to let up! "See what I mean?" she asked, turning to X and Trixie.

A smirking Rex turned to a bewildered Trixie. "You know? I think we'd better get in there, and rescue Spritle. From Speed!" he joked.

Trixie agreed. "Um, hmm! I think you're absolutely right, Racer X. If Speed keeps this up--" She paused, and a devious gleam filled her eyes. If Speed's parents thought he was a bit of a scamp at times--Trixie could be a little minx herself, when she wanted to be. And now, was one of those times. "--Hmmph! Maybe I should give this pie to Spritle and Chim Chim, instead of him!"

They followed the boys' mother upstairs. As Mom Racer and the visitors approached, the boisterous free-for-all going on inside Speed's bedroom got even rowdier and noisier. Spritle, in fact, had actually gained the upper hand on his older brother, and Chim Chim was eagerly hooting his delight at the scene. "Boys! What on earth is going on in there??" Mrs. Racer demanded loudly, knocking at the door. "Speed, what did your father tell you? You're supposed to be in bed, re..."

She threw open the door moments later--and then wished she hadn't. "...Resting," Mom sighed helplessly as she watched her two youngest sons goofing off on Speed's bed. There was Spritle, sitting on Speed and pounding away at his chest with both his little fists and hollering at the top of his lungs. Chim Chim was screeching and jumping up and down excitedly on the pillows. Speed was nearly in tears, from laughing so hard and trying to outwrestle both his little brother and the family pet. _"...You want payback, Speed?? I'll show you, MY payback!!" _Spritle yelled, continuing to pound away at Speed's chest.

Speed comically tried to defend himself. "OK, OK!! Knock it off, you little rascal. Or see if I give you any candy on your birthday!" he gasped, holding up his right arm to ward off the youngster's harmless blows.

A laughing Spritle continued to pummel and tickle Speed mercilessly. "Ow! OWWW!!" the older Racer boy exclaimed, feigning pain. "You're not fighting fair, Spritle!"

_Eeeeekk!! _screeched Chim Chim, tumbling over both Spritle and Speed.

Mrs. Racer stepped forward into the room, a stern expression on her face. "Boys! Stop that nonsense, this instant. We have guests!" she said, raising her voice above the din.

"Yes, and if you three don't stop it, I may just give this pie to Racer X instead of you," Trixie added, feigning exasperation with her steady's boyish behavior.

Instantly, the wrestling ceased. Speed looked up, a wide grin on his face. "Trixie! You made a pie, for me?" he asked, his cobalt blue eyes lighting up with surprise. "Groovy!"

Trixie smiled. "Why, yes. Lemon meringue. See?" She held up the pastry for all to see. Her mouth then twisted into a comic little pout. "But I'm not so sure, you deserve it now. I mean, picking on your poor little brother like you just did..."

Spritle giggled quietly. He turned to Chim Chim. "Wow, Chim Chim. I wonder if Trixie'll let us have some. I think we're more deserving than Speed is," he confided to the chimp, who hooted softly in agreement.

Speed's jaw just dropped in shock at his girlfriend's playful threat. He tried to put on a contrite facial expression. "Aw, Trix, be nice. I'm a sick man!" he pleaded, using some of that Racer charm on Trixie.

The Masked Racer saw right through his act, and chuckled heartily. Funny, that was the same line he seemed to recall his father giving his mother whenever Pops took sick, so long ago... _Ah, yes. The infamous Racer charm, strikes again. _"Oh, you're not that sick, that you can't pick on poor Spritle here," Rex interjected, a wry smile breaking at the corners of his mouth.

Speed grimaced. "But he started it!" he protested, pointing a finger at Spritle.

"Did not!" Spritle countered.

"Did too!"

"Did not!"

"Did too, you little traitor!"

An annoyed Spritle puffed out his chest and stuck out his tongue at Speed. "I said, I DID NOT!"

Their mother became exasperated. "Speed, Spritle, that's enough!!" she thundered at the brothers, her own temper having reached its boiling point. "Now, settle down, all of you. Or I _WILL_ get your father up here!!"

Speed's face went white then. Hastily, he pulled his blanket up over his head—after this morning's confrontation with his father, he was in no hurry to get his butt warmed by Pops! "Better listen to Mom, Speed," Spritle grinned, enjoying his big brother's discomfiture. "Else Pops'll spank ya, like he promised!"

At that, both Trixie and X looked mystified. Neither one had any idea, about what the youngest Racer was talking about. "What??" Trixie exclaimed, an incredulous look on her face. She couldn't believe, what she was hearing. "Pops threatened to do what, to Speed??"

"All right, Speed. What did you do this time, to incur your father's wrath?" Racer X inquired smugly. He didn't have to guess—much. _Racer men, sickness, and cabin fever--not a good match. And it sure sounds like Speed's got a real good case of the latter, _Speed's elder brother mused to himself.

Before Speed could answer, Spritle gleefully chipped in with the story. A little too gleefully, for the older boy's liking. "Oh, nothing much. Just that Pops caught Speed out of bed, sitting in the Mach 5 this morning. You should've seen it, Racer X. It was so funny," the little boy eagerly prattled on. "Pops pulled 'em out of the car by the seat of his pants and carried 'em upstairs over his shoulder. Then he threw Speed on his bed, and threatened to spank 'em if he didn't stay there!" Spritle chortled, thoroughly enjoying himself.

Hmm. Spritle's revenge, for Speed starting the tickling match? Maybe!

Speed shot out from beneath his bedcovers, and glared at his kid brother. "You little gossip! Are you sure you're my baby brother, and NOT my baby sister??" he hissed, highly annoyed.

At that point, Mom Racer had had enough. Folding her arms across her chest, she stared long and hard at her rambunctious sons. A look that told both Speed and Spritle, their mother meant business and wouldn't take any more of their shenanigans. "Boys, I think this has gone on long enough," she said, in a firm tone of voice. "Spritle, why don't you and Chim Chim go out in the back yard, and play until dinner's ready? I believe, Speed wants to spend some time with his guests."

Spritle quickly jumped off the bed, relieved to get away from his rather cranky older brother. Speed was still throwing him and Chim Chim some really icy laser-beam looks as the pair raced out of the room. "OK, Mom. Come on, Chim Chim. Let's leave Speed and Trixie to the mushy stuff.--'Bye, Racer X!" The two pint-sized comedians were long gone, even before an exasperated Speed had time to react.

Speed's mother now turned her attention to her middle son. "And you, mister. Behave!" she ordered, gazing intently at a very nervous Speed. Her gaze was so intense, it actually made him flinch. "Or I'll confiscate that lemon meringue pie Trixie made for you, and the three of us—Trixie, Racer X, and myself--will eat it ourselves!"

Now, if Pops Racer was the hands-on disciplinarian of the Racer family, then Mom was the more subtle one. Knowing her sons' likes and dislikes often came in handy, especially in a situation like this. The older woman winked at Trixie, a knowing smile curving at the corners of her mouth. "No offense, Trixie dear. But Speed has got to settle down," Mom declared, with one eye on Speed. "He's not supposed to get overexcited."

Trixie briefly covered her mouth with her free hand, trying to suppress a small giggle. "None taken, Mrs. Racer. I totally agree with you," she answered brightly, much to the consternation of her recuperating boyfriend. "Maybe I'd better take the pie downstairs, and put it in the refrigerator for the time being."

Suddenly, Speed looked up, a look of comic dismay on his face. He couldn't believe it--his own sweet Trixie, daring to tease him like this?? "What?" he intoned, eyebrow raised and giving both women a stare that seemed to be a cross between disbelief and comic annoyance. "Don't I get a piece??"

Trixie jokingly turned to the Racer family matriarch. "I don't know...,' she mused, feigning indecision. "What do you think, Mrs. Racer? Should we--?"

Mom laughed lightly. "I'll have to think about it."

That was too much for poor Speed to deal with. He was getting picked on, but good. He gazed pleadingly at Trixie with those wide, expressive, deep blue eyes of his; eyes that could melt any girl's heart. At the same time, the young racing star really poured on the charm, flashing his best angelic smile at his smirking girlfriend. "Aww, c'mon, Trixie. Just one little piece? Pleease??" Speed innocently begged. "It'd make me feel a whole lot better--"

A smiling Trixie shook her head. Normally she was very susceptible to Speed's boyish, innocent charm (and yes, he certainly had plenty of _that_), but not today. This was one time she wasn't going to fall for it, no matter how hard he tried to win her over. Gently, she pushed him back down against his pillows. "Uh-uh, Speed. Not until you settle down!" Trixie playfully scolded, in a firm tone of voice. "You know what the doctor said, no getting overexcited. Now hush, and listen to your mom!" As an extra incentive, she leaned over and lightly planted a kiss on Speed's cheek.

As much as he appreciated his girl's affections, that didn't seem to help Speed much. He sighed, and made a pouty face. Truth be told, he looked like a sad-eyed puppy dog. "Gee, you're being mean. Both of you!"

His mom smiled knowingly. She walked over to her son's bedside, leaned over, then affectionately ran her fingers through his hair. "No, we're just being practical," she said sweetly, pulling the covers up around his neck. "Unless of course, you want your father to know about this latest escapade of yours..."

Instantly, Speed changed his tune. That was the last thing he needed! "Uh—no way! Not Pops...!!" he gulped, and quickly disappeared under the covers, much to the amusement of the ladies and Racer X. "No fair, Mom!"

Seated at Speed's desk, one lanky leg crossed over the other, Rex Racer watched the ongoing banter with bemused satisfaction. He wasn't surprised by his younger brother's madcap antics; for as far back as Rex could remember Speed had always been full of energy, and nearly impossible to pin down even when he was sick. As a matter of fact, all the Racer men seemed to have an aversion to hospitals and staying in bed when sick or injured...

...Including, Rex himself.

The ever-present tight half-smile twitched at the corners of his mouth. "Mrs. Racer, if I might offer a suggestion. Perhaps you should give Speed a piece now," the Masked Racer kindly proffered, leaning back in his chair. "With a piece of pie, his mouth would be too occupied to make much of a fuss."

Both Mom and Trixie thought it an excellent idea. "Oh, why not? I think that's a terrific idea," Mrs. Racer said, starting for the bedroom door. "I'll go get some plates and forks."

Trixie followed her close behind, carrying the pie. "And I'll bring the pie down," the perky, brown-haired teen added. "But we'd better save Pops, Spritle, Chim Chim and Sparky all a piece, else we'll never hear the end of it from that bunch."

Speed's mother laughed, as the two women headed down the hall towards the stairs. "Oh, heaven forbid, we'd forget those boys," she replied, a merry twinkle in her eyes. "Pops wouldn't let us. You know how he is, whenever there's pie involved."

After the women left, an exhausted Speed glanced over at his still-smirking brother. "Doggone it, Racer X. Why didn't you say something back there?" he comically begged, totally flustered. His face was almost as red as the "M" emblazoned on the Masked Racer's racing suit. "Spritle really embarrassed me in front of Trixie, you know--"

"I know. I'm sorry to have witnessed that." Rex chuckled softly. In a strange sort of way, his 'Racer X' persona turned out to be the perfect setup for him to bridge the emotional (if not the physical) gap between him and his family. It allowed the eldest Racer brother to at least indirectly stay close to his loved ones, without putting their lives in physical danger as a result of his Interpol work. Not that there wasn't enough danger; just keeping (and sometimes pulling!) little brother Speed out of trouble on and off the track, was a challenge unto itself at times. "But I didn't say anything because maybe I thought, the entire scenario was quite amusing. Or maybe it's because your mom's right, about you needing all the rest you can get. You do realize, we just barely made it out of Wiley's basement alive that day," he said in a gentle but serious manner. Then in a silent aside to himself he added, _And, besides. Contrary to what you think, little brother, Pops and I both share __your aversion to prolonged bed rest. He and I were never ones to take being sick or injured without putting up a royal fuss, either...You should ask Mom about us, some time!_

He rose from the chair he was sitting in then, magazine in hand. "Here. I brought this, for you," X said, quickly changing the subject. He handed Speed the periodical. "Thought you could use some more reading material. Your favorite—the latest issue of _Auto Racing Today._"

"Gee! Thanks, Racer X. You just saved me the price of buying my own copy!" Quickly, Speed forgot all about being yelled at for his earlier hijinks with Spritle as he eagerly thumbed through the pages of the magazine.

Suddenly, the bedridden teen racer let out a low whistle. The Wiley incident was splashed all over the bulk of the magazine. "Wow!" Speed softly exclaimed, wide-eyed with amazement. "Talk about, making headlines. I guess Monday's meeting at the track president's office was well-covered!"

"Well-covered. _And, _well-attended. I'd say half the field that had participated in Sunday's race, showed up to make a statement on the matter," his brother corrected him. "Total front cover material. Jack Wiley's downfall, in all its ugly detail." Racer X paused, then added quietly, "There's even a few quotes from your dad in there, as well."

Speed looked surprised. "Huh! That's something new. Usually Pops is ready to cream the press, not hob-nob with 'em," he said, making a wry face at the thought. "He hates unwanted publicity--"

"Not this time. Fortunately the reporter who was assigned to the story was very respectful of your father's wishes, and kept any mention of your ordeal to a minimum. Of course, it was your taped testimony, that really sealed Wiley's fate. Good work, Speed." Rex nodded approvingly at his brother's actions.

Speed lay back among his pillows, and yawned. As much as he hated to admit it, he was getting tired again--he should had never taken on both Spritle and Chim Chim, in a free-for-all wrestling match! "Thanks."

The two racers—nay, _brothers—_fell into silence then, each lost in his own thoughts. A few minutes later Racer X slowly seated himself on the edge of Speed's bed, and gazed intently at his restless younger brother. "Speed, I want you to tell me the truth. What's the matter?" he asked softly, sensing there was more to Speed's acting out than he was letting on. "What's really bothering you? You can tell me."

Speed's eyes narrowed. "Huh? What do you mean, by _that_?"

"I think there's something more that's bothering you, than just being confined to a sickbed."

For a brief moment, a startled Speed thought he was a youngster again and that his big brother was there, looking after him as usual. It was as if Rex was still with him, seeing through his little 'Mr.-Tough-Kid-On-The-Block' act. _I swear, Racer X is doing it to me again! That's the same kind of question, Rex would ask whenever I got into some kind of scrape with the big kids or I'd done something to make Mom and Pops mad at me, _the young racing star immediately thought. _It's so...So eerie, how X can see through me like that._

He managed to quiet his suspicions for the time being, and sighed heavily. "Racer X? When you're on, you're on," Speed admitted, toying with the edge of his bedcovers. "There is something bothering me."

His brother nodded. "Well, then, spill it. I'm listening."

"It has to do with me and Trixie. We'd planned last week to go to the drive-in this Friday to see that new Elvis film, _Clambake_, but since I came home from the hospital Monday morning Mom and Pops won't let me downstairs, let alone out of the house." Speed sighed, then explained his predicament in further detail to his attentive visitor. "...But I feel great now, Racer X. I'm not having as many nightmares now, and I feel a lot stronger. I should be allowed out of bed, now. Don't you think?" he asked, when he had finished his tale.

Rex thoughtfully stroked his chin. Carefully he studied Speed, and noted with pleasure how quickly he had physically recovered (save for his wrists, which were still in the healing process) from his ordeal. He did agree with Speed on that end—to a point. "Well, you certainly do look physically fine to me. In fact, I think you've recovered quite nicely," he replied with another one of those tight half-smiles that for the past three days had been driving Pops Racer up the wall. "But I'm not your doctor, that'll be his call to make. And I suspect, your parents are only trying to make sure, you're in top physical and mental form before you resume racing. I assume, your dad's planning to enter you in the Western 500 next weekend--?"

Speed's face fell. A look of doubtful indecision crossed his face. "Yeah, but I suppose that's all up in the air right now. Not after the bonehead stunts, I pulled today..."

"That may be true this minute. But think about it. Think about all that you've been through the past few days, Speed. We barely made it out of that basement alive, before the building collapsed in a ball of flame," X gently reminded him. "You were physically helpless, and having a really tough time with the smoke. I was more fortunate than you in that regard, thanks to my mask. All I could do to help you was to have you turn your head inwards towards my body, and carry you to safety. Then on top of that, you insisted on running the Trans-Country Race—and your body literally paid for your decision."

He stopped, and kindly lay a comforting hand on his despondent younger brother's shoulder. "Sometimes, Speed, we have to sacrifice our own wants in order to achieve our true goals," X said softly, trying to give Speed some encouragement. "As far as Trixie's concerned, I'm sure she's well aware of your situation. She truly is an amazing girl, and I don't think not going out on Friday is going to bother her as much as you think it will. If anything, it's bothering you the most."

Even as Racer X spoke, Speed was mulling over his message. Slowly, he realized that his visitor was right--this 'confined to bed' routine was more stressful on him than on Trixie, and she seemed to be the one taking things in stride. "Are you saying then, I'm being selfish for wanting to take Trixie out Friday night?" he asked, his blue eyes misting slightly.

A smiling Rex shook his head. "No, not at all. You're a young man now, Speed. You're making that transition from teenager to adult, and now you need to start making adult decisions. About everything," he replied, with a wisdom belying his twenty some-odd years. He lightly patted Speed on the shoulder. "You're only human, you know. We all make mistakes. And heaven only knows, I've made my fair share of mistakes in my lifetime." Racer X paused, and chuckled mysteriously.

At that, Speed began to laugh. Now, that was something. What, the great Masked Racer? Making mistakes--?? "You??" he echoed, a big boyish grin etched on his face. "You, Racer X? Make mistakes?? That's...That's hard to believe!"

A wistful expression softened the Masked Racer's face. A trace of sadness tinged his voice as he spoke. "Believe me, Speed. I have. And some I regret, more than others," he answered, with a heavy sigh. Then in his mind, Rex Racer added, _And the biggest mistake I ever made, was not listening to Pops and then turning my back on all of you six years ago, after I crashed the Mach 1 at Sunny Downs...I only wish I could tell you how much that still haunts me, Speed. Even to this very day... _

He shook off that disquieting though, then, and helped his little brother lie back in bed. "Anyhow. I'd better be going," X said, making sure Speed was comfortable under the covers. "You just get some rest, now. I'll stop by tomorrow."

A sleepy Speed glanced up at him. "Going so soon?"

Racer X merely chuckled. Unbeknownst to Speed, the information that the young racer had so easily given out that afternoon, had given the older man fodder for a crazy idea. "Oh, I think Trixie's pie is beckoning me. Then there's an errand I have to run," he replied mysteriously, causing Speed to wonder just what his number one competitor was up to. "Don't worry. I'll make sure, Trixie brings up your share of the lemon meringue." With a knowing smile at his brother, Racer X rose from the bed and walked out of the room.

An hour later, after a good slice of Trixie's lemon meringue pie, some conversation with the women, and a quick "hello" to Pops in his office, the Masked Racer jumped into his car and took off. He wasn't going home just yet--he had one more stop to make. Speed's admittance that he was going nuts over staying in bed through the weekend when he and Trixie had already planned for a romantic night out at the drive-in, had given his elder brother something to think about. _I think Speed is right, about his physical condition. This is the best I've seen him all week,_ Rex Racer thought, smiling deviously to himself as he drove along the city limits. _Well, I happen to agree with him. I think it's time for him to get up and about, and start gearing up for a return to the track.-- Besides, they say laughter is the best medicine. And what better medicine for Speed than a night at the movies with his favorite girl, watching a romantic musical/comedy? ...I think I 'd better have a little talk with Speed's doctor, and see what I can do._

Do I sense the beginning of a scheme, X??

--


	5. Chapter 5

_**Note: **__The "pepper in the mouth" idea really happened—I was the victim, my co-author Janee the perpetrator! Thus, one of Spritle's wackier "pranks" was born! _

_Chapt. 5 More Pranks, More Chaos!_

"Shhh!! Quiet, Chim Chim. We don't want Speed to know, what we're doing!" A wary Spritle Racer cautiously tip-toed his way through the kitchen and up the stairs, accompanied by his beloved pet and intent on pulling another prank on his resting older brother. In his chubby clenched fist was a handful of freshly-ground black pepper. "I owe Speed good, for that tickling match we had today. But if he catches us with this pepper, we'll both be goners for sure!"

Chim Chim hooted softly, as he followed his eight-year-old master up to Speed's room. It was the perfect setup for the littlest Racer and his chimp friend: Mom and Trixie had gone to the store to do a little food shopping for that evening's dinner, which left the kitchen wide open for Spritle to sneak in from the back yard and plan his latest assault on Speed in the ongoing "War of the Racer Pranks." Pops was outside doing a little yard work, having taken a lengthy break from his work in the family den. And Speed?

...Speed was sound asleep, totally exhausted from the day's hijinks. Too much Pops, too much Spritle and Chim Chim, too much of Trixie's lemon meringue pie, too much chat with Racer X...

..._And definitely too much of "the mushy stuff" between Speed and Trixie, as Spritle would say._

Spritle and Chim Chim comically crept up to his brother's bedroom door. Looking first to his right then to his left, the little boy turned the doorknob with his free hand and pushed carefully on the door. It creaked slightly, then cracked open, just wide enough for the pair of tricksters to squeeze through. "Shhh!" Spritle repeated to Chim Chim, holding a finger to his mouth. "Now's our chance!"

They slipped inside Speed's room. Speed lay sprawled out on his bed, fast asleep. His right arm dangled over the edge of the bed, the racing magazine he'd been reading now lying flat on the floor below his hand. A lock of his raven hair fell off to the side of his forehead, over his right eye. The corners of his mouth twitched upwards into a semi-smile, as if he were dreaming about a certain young lady.

Spritle smirked mischievously. This ought to be grand--and this ought to also teach his big brother, to get into a tickling match with him! "We'll show him, for starting a tickle fight with me...Come on, Chim Chim! Let's get this done and over with, so we can make our getaway!"

Cautiously, the pair snuck over to the bed. Grinning, Spritle managed to drop the pepper he was holding into his unsuspecting brother's mouth, then tried to scamper away before Speed woke up.

One teensy-weensy problem, however. He hadn't counted on Speed reacting so quickly to the pepper! In fact, they just barely had enough time ti make it into the hallway, before Speed woke up.

The distinct sensation of his tongue being on fire was plenty to startle the young racing star back into wakefulness. "What the--??" Speed began, his eyes snapping open wide in comic surprise and disbelief. He realized quickly, that someone had dropped pepper into his mouth—freshly-ground pepper, at that! "Pepper--!! Uggghhhh!!"

Gasping, his face turning completely red, he quickly spat out the offending substance into his bedside trashcan. A giggling Spritle and Chim Chim watched from the safety of the hallway, enjoying his reaction. "Uggghhhh!! I don't...I can't believe this!! Water! I gotta have water!" Speed hastily jumped out of bed and dashed out into the hallway, not even noticing the two pint-sized mischief makers halfway down the corridor. He raced towards the nearest bathroom, coughing and gagging. It felt like his entire mouth was on fire. "If I get my hands on the little nut who came up with the bright idea of putting pepper in my mouth, he's gonna have some explaining to do—to Mom and Pops!!"

Chim Chim hooted softly as he and his little master watched the scene with gleeful merriment. They heard a _whooshing _sound coming from the bathroom a few minuters later--Speed was frantically trying to wash the burning taste out of his mouth with copious amounts of water, whether it came straight from the bathroom sink or dunking his head under the shower and letting the cold water run down into his mouth. Unfortunately, Speed had gotten too much pepper for the water to help at first, and eventually he found himself resorting to something he didn't particularly care for: last but not least, he tried gargling with mouthwash, although that only served to worsen the situation as the horrid burning sensation of pepper was soon replaced by the nasty taste of original flavor Listerine. "Ahhhh!! That wasn't one of my best ideas, I think I was better off with the taste of the pepper.--I HATE LISTERINE!!"

Suddenly, the sound of childish laughter caught Speed's attention. "Huh??" Puzzled, he went to the door, and stuck his wet head out into the corridor. He saw Spritle and Chim Chim rolling on the carpeted hallway floor, convulsed with laughter. Then everything clicked, and Speed felt his temper rising rather quickly. "Spritle!! You did this, didn't you??" he shouted, highly annoyed with his baby brother.

Spritle couldn't stop laughing, especially when he saw Speed's rather wet 'do. "What'chya do, Speed? Stick your head in the toilet??" he giggled. "Are you trying to find a way for the other drivers to say that you're still wet behind the ears??"

Speed clenched his fists. His face turned a bright red, the very same way Pops would get whenever he was angry. "Spri-tle?? I'm gonna get you for this!!" he fumed, gritting his teeth.

Spritle and Chim Chim exchanged alarmed glances. "Uh-oh! Chim Chim? I think he's mad at us, now--"

"You're darn right, I'm mad!" Speed yelled, and took off in his stocking feet after his kid brother and Chim Chim.

"Run, Chim Chim!" Spritle cried out.

_Eeeeek!! Eeeek!! _screeched Chim Chim.

"Get back here, you little pests!" Speed roared, furious.

He proceeded to chase the little troublemakers down the stairs. Spritle and Chim Chim made for the garage, with a very angry Speed in hot pursuit. "See if I don't put pepper in YOUR ice cream the next time you get ice cream! No—better yet, I'll do it right now. Hey, Spritle. How'd ya like some chocolate chip ice cream—_a la pepper??_ " Speed yelled, running past the Mach 5 and through the open garage door. He still wasn't aware, he was running outside without his shoes on.

"No, thank you!! Hurry, Chim Chim, he's right behind us!!" Spritle broke for the back yard, unaware that the boys' dad was out mowing the lawn. Chim Chim followed close behind.

Pops Racer sat on the chair swing in the back yard, mopping his very sweaty brow with a handkerchief while taking a break from mowing the lawn. As it was rather warm that day, the mere act of pushing a lawn mower repeatedly around the huge expanse of lawn was enough to make any man sweat profusely, let alone someone like the Racer family patriarch. He had just put his handkerchief back into his pants pocket when suddenly a blur of humanity came racing past, arms flailing and a loud scream piercing the late afternoon air. "_Ahhhhhhhhh!!"_

Pops looked up, bewildered. His youngest son was running at full speed past him, with a very noisy Chim Chim bringing up the rear. "What the--?" he said, slowly starting to get up from the swing. He tried to catch a panicky Spritle, but the lad was too quick and slid under the swing. Pops turned, just in time to see his son coming up behind his massive hulk. "Whoa, whoa! Slow down, Spritle! Where's the fire?" Pops exclaimed, with a laugh.

Poor Spritle looked as if he'd seen a ghost. Or worse--an alien, even. "Protect me, Pops!" he begged, grabbing onto his dad's back.

His father eyed him at first with some amusement, then fatherly suspicion. "Protect you from what, son? I don't see anything out here," Pops answered, looking around. "Spritle, did you eat too much candy again? Or did Chim Chim start something, I don't know about?"

Spritle looked at him, panic-stricken. "No, Pops, it wasn't Chim Chim! It was Speed!" the youngest Racer said breathlessly. "He was chasing me and Chim Chim!"

Pops broke into a jovial laugh. "Speed, chasing you?? I don't see anyone here, Spritle. You must be mistaken," he said, playfully rubbing his young son's head. "And, besides. Speed's in his room. Your mother and I decided to let him join us for dinner tonight, since Trixie's over--"

"But he WAS chasing me!!" Spritle insisted. "He was right behind--" He looked around, but to his great surprise there was no other person in sight, save for himself and his father. Spritle pouted dejectedly. "--Me."

Speed, meanwhile, was just about to turn the corner of the house and run into the back yard after Spritle when he suddenly froze in his place. He'd just heard his father's booming voice out back. Cautiously he peered around the corner, then drew a sudden sharp breath and quickly pulled back. _Ohh, boy. Pop's out there, _Speed groaned inwardly. _I'd better get back upstairs pronto, before Spritle tattles on me! _Almost instantly he turned on his heels and raced back into the house. The teen racer practically flew up the stairs and rushed into his room, where he literally did a swan dive onto his bed. No way, did he want his dad spotting him outside...!! But as for Spritle...?

...He'd get even with him and Chim Chim, yet. Although there was no doubt, Spritle would be looking to do the same with Speed.--Later!

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"So, let me get this straight, Racer X. You have a question about Speed's treatment plan?" In his downtown medical office, Dr. Wilson calmly gazed at the tall, well-built masked figure sitting in an armchair across from the physician's desk. True to his word, Racer X had stopped in for a brief chat with the doctor in hopes of setting his sneaky little plan for Speed and Trixie, into play.

Racer X leaned back in his chair, and smiled. "Why, yes, Dr. Wilson. I do," he said, crossing one leg over the other. "Now I do realize, that I'm merely a family friend and you might not be allowed by law to tell me much. But based on my own observations at the Racer house this afternoon, I'd say Speed could use a raise in his activity level."

Dr. Wilson was clearly intrigued. Considering Speed's original condition when he'd first been admitted to the hospital that past Sunday, the silver-haired physician was pleasantly surprised to hear how quickly the young man had responded to treatment. "Really! How so?" he asked, curious to hear what his masked visitor had to say.

Rex let out a small, throaty chuckle. "Oh, physically the post-fire cough he had, is now completely gone. And he's certainly much more alert—in fact, his mom thinks he's got too much energy now," he replied, smiling at the very images of his little brother goofing off on his bed with little Spritle and Chim Chim. "He had his younger brother Spritle, in a figure-four leglock when I arrived for a visit earlier this afternoon. Then apparently this morning, Pops caught Speed sitting in the Mach 5 and hauled him back upstairs to bed--after threatening to give him a good spanking." The Masked Racer shook his head. He still had a hard time keeping himself from laughing, over the incident.

The doctor too, had a hearty laugh. "Well, I'm not surprised. Speed's a Racer, through and through. I always did have problems keeping both his elder brother Rex and his father in line as well, when it came to medical issues. So far Spritle's the only one of the Racer males, who _hasn't _created some kind of havoc when he's ill."

Behind the mask, a bemused Rex fought to suppress a smirk. Yeah, he knew damn well what the doc was referring to, all right. The incident the year before he got his driver's license, involving an emergency appendectomy and how his insistence on leaving the hospital AMA (against medical advice) four days after the surgery nearly messed things up--the stitches burst three days later at home, and he had to be rushed back for restitching. He'd been fifteen then... But hey, he was no better than Speed when it came to following doctors' orders, and neither was Pops! _No comment about that, Doc, _he thought to himself. _Let's not go there!_

Still, he maintained his cool. And, his cover. "So I've heard. The time Rex walked out of the hospital only four days after an emergency appendectomy, and had to have his stitches redone because they'd burst." Racer X chuckled at the memory. "And I take it, Pops Racer was never one for staying in bed, either?"

Dr. Wilson made a face. "Pops? He's a character, all right. He can have something as small as a fever, and he'll insist on working through it! A few times he was felled by the flu, but he still went ahead with his work schedule—until he totally collapsed. Then he started driving poor Mrs. Racer and the kids nuts with his efforts to get out of bed and back to work! I have no doubt, aversion to hospitals and being bedridden runs in that family's genes." The physician paused, shook his head, and changed the subject. "Let's see. We were discussing Speed, and whether he's ready for some light activity--"

X nodded. "Yes, we were."

About fifteen minutes later, Racer X emerged from the medical building, a wide grin lighting up that part of his face which wasn't covered by his mask. It'd been a very profitable afternoon for the man formerly known as Rex Racer; he'd gotten exactly what he needed to hear from Speed's physician, and now he was about to go home and formulate his plan. _That was so kind of Dr. Wilson, __to give Speed the go-ahead for a quiet night out at the drive-in. But I had no doubt he would, after what I reported. Besides—as long as Speed isn't doing anything strenuous like driving, he should be okay...I know this'll make both Speed and Trixie happy. But can I get around Pops, to sneak them out of the house?? That's the million-dollar question! Although...I DO have one up on Pops if he squawks. I've got Dr. Wilson, to back me up!_

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As dinnertime approached, Spritle and Chim Chim retired to the relative safety of Spritle's bedroom, where almost immediately the pair began to plot their next attack. "OK, Chim Chim, you know that means, war!" Spritle eagerly exclaimed. On his bed in front of him were a pair of child's scissors, a paper plate, a plastic sandwich bag, and a ball of cream-colored yarn that had been snatched from Mom Racer's knitting bag. It was clear from his actions and comments he was still upset with his older brother, and he was planning a doozy of a prank to get back at Speed with. "Threaten to put pepper in _MY _ice cream, will he? And—and make us look like fools, in front of Pops...?? Ooh, I'm gonna really get Speedy back for this!"

Chim Chim vigorously nodded his head in agreement. _Eek_ _eeek eeek!! _he hooted excitedly.

Spritle started to cut up the yarn onto a paper plate. "Mom's making spaghetti for dinner tonight. And do you know what we're gonna do, Chim Chim?"

The little chimp looked at his young master, a puzzled expression on his face. _Eeeck??_

"We're gonna take this ball of yarn like so, cut it up into pieces the same length as the spaghetti, then put 'em on Speed's plate and mix 'em into _his_ spaghetti!" Spritle snickered, a mischievous glint in his eye. He could just envision his brother's reaction, once he'd bitten into the strands of yarn instead of the pasta.

Chim Chim screeched his pleasure, and danced around excitedly on his young master's bed. "I know, Chim Chim. It's gonna be fun, seeing the look on Speed's face...Now, c'mon. Help me cut this stuff up!" Spritle went on cutting, while Chim Chim held the ball of yarn.

Do you somehow get the feeling, there's gonna be another unplanned eruption of Mount Not-So-Saintly Pops at the dinner table tonight??

Speed was still lying on his bed looking rather glum, when his bedroom door opened around six o'clock that evening. In popped Trixie, wearing her customary coral capri pants and matching sleeveless top. She and Sparky both had come at the invitation of Mrs. Racer, who thought that having a few of her son's friends over might help cheer the frustrated teen up. "Speed! Your mom's calling for you," Trixie cheerfully called out, upon entering her boyfriend's bedroom. "She says to come on down, it's time for dinner."

Almost as quickly as Trixie had blurted out the words, Speed immediately sat up, and snapped out of his funk. The very words, "Come on down, it's time for dinner," sure got his attention, all right. His face lit up with a big, goofy grin. "What? You mean to tell me, I can actually leave my cage now?" he joked.

Trixie gave him a wry look. "Cage!!" she scoffed, making a face. "Speed, really. Don't you think, you're overreacting just a little?"

He returned the odd face at her. "Well, it sure felt like I was living in a cage these past three days, Trix. I swear, my parents were taking Dr. Wilson's orders a little too ser..._Umm!! _" Speed suddenly stopped mid-sentence, as a tender kiss from Trixie direct on his lips caught him off guard. His eyes widened in surprise, then closed as he eagerly savored the kiss. His hands slowly slipped around her waist. Trixie responded by putting her arms around his neck, and soon the couple was locked into a very romantic embrace.

Eventually they were forced to break apart, as Speed literally came up gasping for air. It never failed--being around Trixie always seemed to take the young racer's breath away. "OK, I end my protest. When's dinner?" he asked, grinning broadly like a lovestruck schoolboy.

Trixie laughed softly. "Good!" she shot back, her eyes twinkling merrily. "Your mom said, it'll be ready in a few minutes. Oh, and by the way--Sparky's here, too. He's down in the garage, helping Pops."

Speed raised an eyebrow. "Cool," he said, shrugging carelessly. He was still feeling the sting about being hauled back to bed over his father's shoulder that morning, and the fact that he wasn't even allowed near his race car made it even more unbearable. "Guess they're working on the Mach 5. Don't know what for, though. I highly doubt I'll be racing next weekend, let alone go out with you tomorrow night." Speed sighed, and thrust his hands into his pants pockets. His voice trailed off, a hint of discouragement slipping through.

Trixie caught the sense of despondency in his voice, and immediately tried to reassure him. "Oh, Speed. There you go again," she said softly, cuddling up to her man and letting out a small sigh. "You mustn't think that way. You'll be back on the track, before the competition even knows it! And I told you, we can always do something else tomorrow night...Or do I have to do _this, _to convince you??" She reached up, and planted another resounding smooch on a bewildered Speed's cheek.

Naturally, that set Speed to laughter. "Ok, OK. You win, Trix. I'll behave!" he said, smirking. "So. What's my mom making for dinner?"

Trixie's face dimpled. "Something that you're very fond of. Spaghetti and meatballs," she replied sweetly. "A salad, and garlic bread. Oh, and chocolate cream pie for dessert."

At that, Speed's blue eyes just got wider and brighter. Pasta was one of his favorite meals--and when it came to pasta, no one could beat Mom Racer's cooking. "Spaghetti and meatballs??" he echoed innocently. "All right! Now, you're talking!"

He suddenly bolted out of his room, past a startled Trixie. "Spaghetti and meatballs, here I come! See you in the dining room, Trixie!" Speed happily yelled out, now nearly at the top of the stairs.

"Speed Racer! Slow down, and wait for me!!" an alarmed Trixie cried out.

She watched, transfixed, as the young man literally raced down the stairs. There was no doubt in her mind, he was overjoyed to be let out of his room. Shaking her head and letting out a small sigh of disbelief, Trixie started after Speed...Only to realize moments later what she'd just said. "What—what am I saying??" Trixie suddenly exclaimed, to no one in particular. "Him, slow down?? That's like asking a canary, to stop singing!!" She hurried down the hall, in hot pursuit of her over-eager boyfriend.

Trixie? Get used to it--that boy'll NEVER slow down!!

Meanwhile. The "Battle of the Racer Boys Practical Jokes" was about to get even more wilder...

In the dining room, Spritle and Chim Chim took advantage of the situation to put their little plot into action. Mrs. Racer had yet to call the family and their guests to the table, although the pasta was already out on everyone's plates. Mom had gone back into the kitchen for the salad, and had asked Trixie to help with the garlic bread while Speed had wandered off into the garage, to see what his dad and Sparky were up to...

Which left the dining room table wide open for the little pranksters to strike. "Hurry, Chim Chim! The bag!" Spritle hissed nervously, keeping a sharp eye out for other family members. "That's Speed's plate, over there. He always sits next to Pops." He pointed down the long, elegant table, to a distant plate.

Chim Chim hopped up on the chair in front of the aforementioned plate, and went to work. He dumped the entire bagful of cut-up yarn strands atop the steaming-hot pile of spaghetti and sauce. Spritle then grabbed his own fork from his place setting, and proceeded to thoroughly mix the yarn in with the pasta. Afterwards he wiped off his fork with a napkin, put the fork back by his plate, and stuffed the used napkin down the front of his bib overalls...

...Then he and Chim Chim skedadled out of the room, to await his mother's call to the table.

--


	6. Chapter 6

_**Note:**_ _Sorry this took so long to post, blasted computer problems! (Our printer totally died, and our Internet was doing crazy things to us!) Then I got hit with the flu—if it isn't one thing, it's another!_

_Chapt. 6 Disaster At the Dinner Table_

Out in the Racer family garage, Sparky eagerly assisted Speed's dad with the weekly inspection of the Mach 5. Not that Speed was ready to drive off anywhere with it (heaven only knew, how much he had really wanted to that morning), but Pops Racer was firmly convinced that the car had better be both street- and race-ready...Just in case, Speed got the green light from Dr. Wilson, come Saturday morning. Not only would the Mach need to be race-ready by next week, but Speed himself would need to work on his timing and his physical reflexes--things that could only be worked out on a live track.

But Speed didn't know any of this--yet.

Both Pops and Sparky stood directly in front of the race car, their hands deep into the Mach 5's power plant and making various adjustments to the engine. Speed's father was in the process of changing the spark plugs. "Oh, Sparky. Would you hand me that box of _spark-y_ plugs?" Pops asked, with a slight chuckle at his own bad joke.

Of course, Sparky fell for it. "Aww, c'mon, Pops! You're not gonna use them on _me_ now, are you??" the mechanic gulped, as he walked over to a nearby shelf. He pulled down the box of plugs, and handed it to his boss. "Here you go."

Pops chortled heartily. Considering how his day had started, he was looking very relaxed, and seemed to be thoroughly enjoying himself. "Hmm! Which ones look to be your size, I wonder?" he mused, extending the joke on Sparky further.

Poor Sparky looked bewildered. "Uhh...none of 'em!"

Pops just chuckled. Despite what his sons would say about him, the man did have a good sense of humor—he just didn't show it enough. "Ha! You know, Sparky? You're right, they're a better fit for the Mach 5," the burly ex-wrestler-turned-race car designer said, a broad grin lighting up his naturally ruddy face.

Sparky saw the smug look on his boss's face, and groaned. His face turned beet-red in embarrassment. It didn't take long for Speed's best friend and ace mechanic to figure out, Pops was pulling a fast one on him. "Heyy, now, wait a minute here. Ohh, man, I've been had!" Sparky suddenly exclaimed, smacking himself in the forehead with one very oily hand. "OK, now I know where Speed gets his knack for bad jokes. Boy, did I ever fall for that one!"

"Of course you did!" Pops guffawed loudly. "Besides, Sparky. Where would I put those plugs on you, anyways?"

Neither he nor Sparky noticed the slim, raven-haired figure in the blue polo shirt and white pants slipping quietly into the garage. Their concentration was suddenly broken moments later by the sound of a very familiar boyish, tenor voice coming from behind the race car. "Uh...You can always stick a few of 'em in his mouth, Pops. Then we'll see if Sparky'll give some spark to those spark plugs," Speed quipped, sauntering into the work area.

Pops and Sparky both spun quickly around to face their visitor. Instantly, Sparky's face lit up in a big grin. "Hey! Look who's come back to civilization!" he whooped. "Good to see ya, Speed."

Speed made a wry face at him. "Very funny, Sparky."

He turned to his father then, although very hesitant to even approach. "I ahh...I _am_ allowed in here while you're working. Aren't I, Pops?" Speed asked, in a soft tone of voice.

His father grunted. "In the garage? Yes. The cockpit of the Mach 5? No!" was Pops' emphatic reply. Before Speed could protest, the senior Racer went on. "Your mother and I agreed, to let you come downstairs for dinner tonight. But don't think for a minute I won't carry you back to your room, if I catch you trying to climb into the Mach 5 again!"

Speed hung his head, and stared down at the cement floor. There was no use arguing with Pops on this matter. He resigned himself to the inevitable--he was just going to have to wait things out. Sighing, he thrust his hands into his pants pockets. "OK, Pops. Whatever you say."

At that, Pops stopped what he was doing. He picked up a nearby rag and wiped off his hands. Sensing his son's dejection, he came over to Speed and put a sinewy arm around his shoulders. "Look, son. I'm not doing this to be mean," the older man said softly. "The fact is, Dr. Wilson just didn't want to chance a relapse after what you went through last weekend. You'll just have to wait, one more day. "

"Besides," Sparky grinned, trying to cheer his pal up, "If you do get the green light on Saturday, Speed, you'll need this baby to be race-ready by next week!"

At that, Speed's outlook brightened considerably. The way Sparky was talking, there was a good chance he'd be battling it out in the Western 500 next weekend--and that was definitely music to the young racer's ears. "Oh yeahh!!" he exclaimed, his eyes brightening at the thought. "Then that means, I've got to start working out...Once the doctor clears me."

"Exactly! And don't forget, you still have to meet with Dr. Corbin, the track physician, before I can even enter you. Those are the rules." Pops affectionately clapped a hand on his son's shoulder. "So just try to be a little more patient, Speed. That's all your mom and I are asking."

Speed nodded. As frustrated as he was, he knew in his heart his father was right. "I—I'll try, Pops. But I swear, I must've gotten your level of patience," he joked, a small grin breaking at the corners of his mouth.

His dad shot him an odd look. "Speed? I'll have you know, I have more patience than you think! How do you think, I put up with you and your brother?" Pops retorted wryly, picking up the same rag he'd been wiping his hands on.

Speed grimaced, and playfully scratched his head. "Gee, Pops, I don't know. How DO you put up with Spritle?" he asked innocently.

Pops eyed him wryly. "Wiseguy!" he snorted, and vigorously rubbed his hands on the rag he was holding. At the same time, an idea came to him. Although Speed wasn't allowed in the Mach 5...why not have him help with the usual maintenance? It might settle the young man down, the senior Racer reasoned.

He nodded to Speed. "Say, now, you could make yourself useful," Pops said. "I've noticed the oil level was down in your car, despite the fact you haven't driven her since the Trans-Country Race. Now, I'm not sure how, but the Mach 5 may have developed a leak somewhere...Can you get down, and check if there's any kind of fluid on the floor?"

Speed grinned. He might not be able to sit in his baby right now...but he sure didn't mind helping with the maintenance! Especially since Pops had done the asking—it did make the young racer feel somewhat better about his situation. "Sure thing!"

He got down on one knee, and peered under the car. To his surprise, there was a good-sized spot of oil on the cement floor. "Ah...Pops? We've got a puddle. Right under the oil pan!" Speed reported.

Pops scowled. "Damn! Sounds like a leak, all right...Sparky! Put her up on the autojacks!" he barked out. "We've gotta trace that oil leak! And Speed? Grab a couple of quarts of motor oil from the back shelf, would you?"

Both Speed and Sparky grinned, and Sparky playfully saluted his boss. "Yessir!!"

They had barely gotten the Mach 5 up on the autojacks when the screen door to the garage opened. In popped Mrs. Racer, to announce that dinner was on the table. "All right, you three. Time to clean up, dinner's ready," she called out sweetly. "And don't take too long, else your spaghetti will get cold!"

Pops chuckled. No use keeping Mrs. Racer (or Spritle and Chim Chim, for that matter) waiting--when Mom Racer said dinner was ready, she meant it. "All right, boys, you heard the lady. Let's get presentable," he boomed, wiping his hands off on that same rag for the umpteenth time. "Sparky, set the Mach 5 back down on the ground. We'll trace that oil leak, after dinner."

"I'm on it, Pops." Sparky hit the 'A' button on the steering wheel, and the autojacks lowered the vehicle to the ground.

"Is there anything else I can help with afterwards, Pops?" Speed eagerly asked.

His father smiled. "We'll see, son. We'll see," Pops said, not knowing what was about to transpire at the table. "Now, let's go eat."

"Yeah. Before Spritle makes off with my meatballs!" Speed playfully groused, as the trio headed into the house. "Hey, Sparky. Tell Trixie to keep an eye on my plate, would ya?"

Sparky grinned. "You got it, buddy!"

555555555555555555555555555555555555555

Dinner that evening started off as usual for the Racers and their guests, a boisterous and lively affair. Pops was in a very jovial mood, chuckling and telling all sorts of bad jokes that had the kids rolling their eyes and groaning in good-natured dismay and Mrs. Racer telling her husband to can the bad humor, Harvey Korman he wasn't (a reference to the late Harvy Korman, of "The Carol Burnett Show")! Speed was just glad not to be stuck in his bedroom anymore—for a while he was starting to feel like he'd been placed under house arrest. He was also definitely getting romantic towards Trixie; in between bites of salad he managed to steal a kiss or two from his favorite girl!

Naturally, that prompted Pops to playfully needle him and Trixie. "Now, Speed. I thought I raised you better than that," the patriarch of the Racer family said, smiling at the smooching couple. "And yet I see you here at the dinner table, stealing things!"

Startled, Speed looked up, and blushed deeply. Trixie started to giggle, and Sparky burst out laughing. Spritle, naturally, was having a field day at his big brother's expense. "Busted!!" the little boy crowed happily, smirking. "Two counts of...Mushiness!!" In reply, Speed picked up a crouton off his plate, and flung it at his baby brother. "Mom!! Speed threw a crouton at me!" Spritle loudly complained, and Chim Chim screeched excitedly.

Mom eyed her sons with a warning gaze. "Now boys, there'll be no food fights at this table," she said, in a firm tone of voice. "Mind your manners, we've got guests."

Speed nodded, an apologetic look crossing his face. "Sorry, Mom," he murmured. Then, with a sideways glance at his little brother, he said in a low whisper, "Spritle? I'll deal with you, later!" To which Spritle stuck his tongue out at him!

Everything seemed to be going well—until Speed finished his salad and attacked his plate of spaghetti. He was just about to enjoy his first forkful of the pasta when he made a rather unpleasant discovery: almost as soon as he put the forkful of food into his mouth he began to cough and gag, as if choking. "Ulhhh!! That—that's not spaghetti!!" he croaked hoarsely. He grabbed his napkin, and hastily spat out the offending matter into it. "What's Mom's yarn, doing on MY plate??"

He looked over at his mother, a quizzical expression on his face. "No offense, Mom, but this spaghetti's kinda...Stringy," Speed said, holding up the strand of yarn that he'd found.

Mom was horrified. "What?! How'd _that_ get there??" she demanded.

Pops glanced uneasily over at his perturbed middle son. "Son, are you sure about that?" he asked, maintaining his cool.

An annoyed Speed turned to stare back at his father. "Well, what does this look like to you, Pops? I think I know yarn when I bite it," he shot back. He handed the piece of yarn to his dad. "My plate's full of the stuff!"

Pops carefully examined the evidence, and frowned. "Hmmm! Looks familiar," he said, narrowing his eyes. "It looks like, the yarn your mother was knitting with earlier today--"

He glanced across the table at his wife. "Dear. Didn't you say, you were missing a ball of yarn?" Pops inquired casually.

Mrs. Racer looked bewildered. "Why, yes," she replied. "One of the cream-colored balls, as a matter of fact. I was using it to knit that baby blanket, for my friend Marsha. You know—our neighbor a few houses down. She and her husband Mike are expecting their first child--"

Pops raised an eyebrow. "Oh! Right! I forgot. Sorry, dear."

Speed, however, was quick to suspect his little brother of the crime. He flashed his baby brother a dirty look. "Spritle? Did you by any chance, have something to do with the disappearance of Mom's yarn? And, _this_??" He pointed to the mix of yarn and spaghetti on his plate.

Spritle looked up. "Do with what, Speed?" he asked innocently, after swallowing a mouthful of spaghetti that should have been Speed's. "Chim Chim and I are just sitting here, enjoying our spaghetti--"

Trixie and Sparky, meanwhile, watched the unfolding drama with a great deal of trepidation. This certainly wasn't what they had planned for when they''d both accepted Mrs. Racer's invitation! "Uhh...Trixie? Do ya think, this could be the start of World War Three?" Sparky whispered, wide-eyed with alarm.

Trixie lightly bit down on her lower lip. "I don't know, Sparky. But I've got a terrible feeling Pops is going to blow a major gasket, if things don't settle down!" she replied softly. "It seems that Spritle and Speed have been going non-stop all day, with these pranks of theirs."

Sparky was uneasy. "Really? All day, huh?"

Trixie nodded. "Believe me, Sparky. _All day._ "

While all these distractions were happening, Speed took advantage of the situation to switch his plate with Spritle's. It happened so quickly, that the youngest Racer didn't even realize his plate was now in front of his conniving older brother. Spritle took a bite of what he thought was his spaghetti...

..._Then made a weird face as he bit into the yarn! "Blehhhh!!"_ Spritle cried out, disgusted. "What happened to my spaghetti?? It's full of yarn!!"

A smirking Speed glanced up, enjoying what used to be Spritle's plate. Unfortunately, he couldn't for the life of him keep a straight face, and the young racer suddenly broke out into gleeful laughter. "Ha, ha! Serves you right, you little trickster!" Speed whooped loudly.

Boy, was Spritle ever seeing red! He clenched his chubby little hands into fists, got up from his chair, then started to beat up on his laughing brother. "Speed!! You stole my plate, didn't you??" the little guy demanded, pounding on Speed with everything he had.

"Well, you put the yarn on my plate first! So I think it's a fair trade," Speed replied, scowling.

"Spaghetti thief!" Spritle yelled back.

The brothers' bickering would had gone on for who knew how long, had their parents not decided to step in. It wasn't hard to see that both Pops and Mrs. Racer had finally had enough of their sons' rather embarrassing antics, judging by their facial expressions. Mom looked thoroughly disgusted, while her husband struggled to control his rapidly soaring temper. In fact, Trixie and Sparky were certain they both could see steam coming out of Pops' ears, he was that furious. And, red in the face. "Spritle!! Sit down!!" the chief architect of the Go Team bellowed, glaring angrily at his squabbling boys. "And Speed? Don't think you're gonna get off easy for this! You should be ashamed of yourself, pulling a stunt like _this_ on your younger brother!" He pointed to the ghastly plate of mixed-up yarn and pasta in front of Spritle. "Now, your mother and I will _NOT_ tolerate any more of your juvenile practical jokes, at this table. _Do you two understand me??"_

Spritle cringed, and scurried back to his seat without another word. He looked like a whimpering little puppy, dragging its tail between its legs. Speed, on the other hand, momentarily forgot himself (shades of his brother Rex, perhaps??), and became very defensive. His blue eyes blazed with the infamous Racer anger. "Pops, why are you blaming _me__?? _Spritle's the one who put the yarn on my plate in the first place," he responded heatedly, not noticing the shocked look he was getting from poor Trixie. "On top of that, he also put pepper in my mouth earlier this afternoon. While, I was sleeping--!!" Speed shot his younger brother a very nasty look.

"Well, you tickled me half to death. And you weren't supposed to be out of bed, but you were!" Spritle countered.

"Oh, yeah? Well, I told you I'd get back at you for laughing at me this morning--!" was Speed's heated answer to that.

Pops had heard enough. His face as bright red as a cooked lobster, he slammed a huge fist down hard on the surface of the dining room table, startling everyone in the room back to attention. "Speed!! That's enough from you!!" he exploded, staring intently at his now-cringing middle son. "You and Spritle are equally responsible for the chaos, that's been happening around here today. Now if I have to get out of this chair and carry both of you up to your rooms...I WILL!! Now, knock it off!!"

"Actually, Dragon, I don't think that's such a bad idea," Mom interjected, calling Pops by his wrestling moniker. "A little time out, just might do our sons some good."

"Not to mention a good whack on the butt for good measure," Pops growled, steaming mad.

She turned to Speed and Spritle, looked them both straight in the eye, and pointed in the direction of the staircase. "Both of you. Go to your rooms, right this instant!" Mrs. Racer snapped, her eyes flashing with irritation and disapproval. "You can forget about the rest of your dinner. And you most certainly _WILL NOT _be getting dessert!"

A stunned silence fell over the room. Both Speed and Spritle blinked in shock, caught off guard for the moment. It was rare for their mother to take the lead on discipline issues (that was usually Pops' department), so to hear Mom Racer raise her voice in anger at the brothers was totally unexpected. "B-but...But, Mom!!" a wide-eyed Speed tried to protest, taken aback by his mom's reaction. "You...You can't be serious--!!"

"I'm dead serious. Speed Racer, you and Spritle had better get upstairs--RIGHT NOW!!--before I count to ten. Or else I'll let your father deal with the two of you!" Mom stood her ground, a stern expression on her face. "One...Two...Three..."

Just then, she caught sight of Chim Chim, attempting to sneak away from the crime scene. "Ohh, no you don't! You hold it right there, Chim Chim. This applies to you, too!" Mom Racer sternly exclaimed, staring hard and pointing at the guilty-looking chimp. "I know the boys couldn't have possibly pulled this off by themselves, they had to have help. And I don't doubt for a minute, you had a paw in all this...Monkey business, so no sweets for you tonight either! Now upstairs, to bed. All three of you! Before I finish counting to ten!" She resumed her countdown. "...Four...Five...Six..."

Speed was sweating bullets now. His eyes went buggy as he suddenly realized, he hadn't been allowed to say good night to Trixie! "Wait a minute! Can't I kiss Trixie good night? Pleeease??" he pleaded, panic starting to set into his voice.

His father swiftly put his foot down on that innocent request. "NO!!" Pops thundered, glaring furiously at his very nervous son. Sometimes just the sound of the former wrestling champ's voice alone was enough to make a person's hair stand on end, and his angry tone was certainly enough to make poor Speed flinch. "You heard your mother. Get to your room, this instant! Or do I have to carry you there??"

Poor Speed could only look back wistfully at his very worried girlfriend as his parents herded him, Chim Chim, and a still-very upset Spritle up the stairs, towards the boys' bedrooms. Being hauled back to his room over his dad's shoulder earlier that morning had been embarrassing enough for the young man; he sure didn't need for Trixie and Sparky to see that scenario happen again. "'Bye, Trixie! See you later...I hope!" Speed gulped, catching the angry looks Mom and Pops were giving him.

Still fuming about his predicament, he turned on his baby brother and gave him the what-for. "Gee, Spritle. Thanks a lot--for getting me in a whole lotta trouble!!" Speed hissed, his eyes flashing with annoyance. In reply, an equally-furious Spritle answered with a good hard kick to Speed's right shin, causing the older boy to comically grab his leg and grimace in pain. "Owwww! Spritle!! What was _that _for??" the young racer yelped, hopping around madly on one foot.

"You're welcome! That's for getting _ME _in trouble, with Mom and Pops too!" Spritle kicked at his brother again.

"Well, you're both in trouble this time!" their father barked, thoroughly riled. Judging by the continuous scowl on his face Pops was feeling very dragonlike, and was clearly in no mood for back talk tonight. "Now, I'm going back downstairs to escort Trixie and Sparky out. You boys had better be in your rooms and settled down, by the time I get back up here. And I swear, I WILL deal with you two afterwards!" Still fuming under his breath, he turned to head back down to the dining room.

Sparky and Trixie were still seated at the dining table when a drained, exasperated Pops re-entered the dining room. For a brief moment, he managed to contain himself, but the teens could tell he was still steaming. "Trixie, Sparky. I'm terribly sorry, but I'm afraid I'm gonna have to ask you two to leave. Now," the burly car designer said loudly, starting to usher Speed's friends out of their chairs and towards the living room. As much as he and Mrs. Racer adored Trixie and approved of her dating Speed, Pops realized that he would be amiss as a parent if he let his middle son's antics tonight go unpunished; Speed moreso than Spritle because according to Pops, "he was old enough to know better" than to engage his younger brother in such hijinks. "I'm cutting off Speed's visitor privileges for the rest of the evening."

Trixie and Sparky glanced at each other, alarmed. This...was pretty serious, if Speed was getting disciplined this harshly. "Aw, Pops, have a heart! Can't we at least get a doggie bag for the rest of our spaghetti?" Sparky comically begged. "I mean, you don't want to waste perfectly good food now, would ya? Especially after all the trouble Mrs. Racer went through, to make such a great meal...!"

"Yes, and I helped," Trixie emphatically pointed out.

Speed's dad paused to think about it a moment. Finally he sighed, and agreed to let the teens stay—if only to finish their dinner. "All right. You two can finish your meal," he said, calming down a bit. "But then, be on your way. What'll happen tomorrow? We'll see.--Sparky!"

Sparky looked up, a forkful of spaghetti in his mouth. "Umm?"

"Be at the track garage tomorrow morning, 9 AM sharp. We'll look for that oil leak then." Pops turned to leave the dining room. "I've a good notion to move the Mach 5 over there tonight, after I make sure the boys are asleep. What Speed can't see, he won't miss."

Sparky looked a little concerned at the suggestion. "Gee, Pops, I dunno about that. I'd be careful about that leak--"

Pops glared at him. "You think I don't know that??" he snapped, causing Sparky to cringe in comic terror. "It's a short distance to the track, the Mach'll be fine. We'll get to work on that leak, first thing in the morning.--Now, good night. Both of you!"

Silence engulfed the now-deserted dining room after Speed's dad left. Trixie and Sparky could hear the loud stream of agitated adult voices—no doubt, Speed and his mother were getting into it. Then couple Pops' bellowing voice with that of what sounded like a hand across bare bottom and the plaintive wail of a child, and it didn't take Speed's friends long to realize what was happening upstairs. In fact, they felt sorry for both Speed, and Spritle! "Ohh, boy. Judging by the way Spritle's bawling and Pops is yelling, I'd say Speed's really in for it now," Sparky nervously declared, laying his fork on his plate and glancing out towards the living room. "And I guess I'll be in for a rough morning, if Pops comes in still mad at Speed." The mechanic paused briefly to take a drink of his soda, then made a face at Trixie."Hey, Trixie? The way this night's going, I wouldn't be so sure about seeing Speed this weekend, if ya know what I mean."

Trixie sighed, and daintily pursed her lips together. Leave it to Speed, to do something totally crazy and then get caught at it—she hated to find out what his punishment would be _this_ time! "Now we can _really_ count out going to the drive-in tomorrow night," she said, looking very disappointed. "Nice going, Speed. You really owe me an apology now!"

Her companion wrinkled up his nose. "You're not the only person, he needs to apologize to. He owes his mom and Pops, big time," Sparky pointed out. "I mean, like I said to Pops earlier tonight. You and Mom Racer really did put together a terrific meal--"

Suddenly, another loud, piercing wail from Spritle seemed to shake the lower portion of the house. There was no mistaking that sound--Pops was definitely giving the lad a good butt-warming. "Uh-oh!" Sparky gulped, startled. "We'd better clear outta here, fast. We sure don't want to wear out our welcome!" He sprang from his chair, eager to beat a hasty retreat out of the Racer house. "Mind giving me a lift home, Trixie?"

Trixie wearily shook her head. "Um-umm. Not at all, Sparky," she said, gathering up her purse and following Sparky to the door. The entire day, it seemed, had been nothing but one disaster after another. All the young woman wanted to do now, was to go home, unwind...

...And worry about Speed, like she always did after an incident like tonight's. Sure, Trixie might get annoyed with Speed for his sometimes boyish, goofy ways and general stubborness on things, but she was in love with the guy, and he with her. Nothing could drive them apart, it seemed...

...Not even a series of foolish, very juvenile pranks.

--


	7. Chapter 7

_Chapt. 7 X Marks the Runaways_

"I can't believe this.--I simply cannot believe this!" A still-fuming Pops Racer paced furiously back and forth in front of his stern-faced wife and very unhappy middle son, looking very displeased. The ex-wrestler had just returned to Speed's bedroom after administering a good spanking to Spritle, and now faced the challenge of dealing with his older boy. "I have never felt so...So humiliated, in my life! That was the most embarrassing display of juvenile behavior I've ever seen, coming from you. What on earth were you thinking, son??"

A thoroughly dejected Speed sat on his bed, head hung low. He knew deep down he deserved this talking-to, as much as Spritle deserved to be spanked. "Gee, Pops, I-I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking, I...I just reacted!"

"Not thinking?? That's an understatement if I ever heard one," his mother retorted, a subtle tinge of anger in her voice. "Speed, honey, you didn't have to retaliate. You're Spritle's older brother, you're supposed to be setting an example for him!"

"And, furthermore. Why didn't you say something to your mother or me, that you needed something to do instead of sneaking behind our backs and creating all sorts of chaos?" his father added, staring hard at Speed. "We could've contacted Dr. Wilson, and maybe instead of getting yourself punished now you could've been up and about—at least, within the house." Pops paused, and sadly shook his head. "Your mother and I are very disappointed with you, Speed. Next time, think before you act!"

A subdued Speed nervously wrung his hands together, and lightly bit down on his lower lip. His right foot tapped the floor in nervous rhythm while he awaited what he considered to be, Pops' sentence of doom. Those were some very strong words his dad had used just then, but rightly so. In the young racer's own mind, he _had_ let his family and friends down with his recent display of post-kidnap behavior, especially after tonight's dinnertime fiasco; heaven only knew what his girlfriend and ace mechanic both thought of him at that moment. _I feel like a total first-class jerk, _he silently berated himself. _I wonder if Trixie and Sparky will ever want to talk to me again, after this mess._

He shifted his position on the bed, at first not wanting to make eye contact with either of his parents. "Understood, Pops. I...I guess I don't always use my head," Speed quietly admitted. "But I suppose I'm sort of like you, though. React first, think later?" A rueful smile broke at the corners of the young man's mouth, giving him a quirky look.

Mom Racer's stern countenance softened at the truth of her son's words. Yes, she certainly couldn't argue with that statement. In so many ways Speed reminded her of a younger version of his father: his hot-headedness, his penchant for impulsive action...His stubborness!...Yet with a strong sense of compassion and moral fortitude, combined with the good looks so common to the Racer men. "Yes, sweetheart, your father and I both realize that," Mrs. Racer said softly, coming over to sit down on the bed beside Speed. "But sometimes it's this 'react first, think about it later' attitude of yours, that gets you into all sorts of trouble." Smiling slightly, she reached up to gently brush back that unruly lock of jet-black hair out of his eyes. "That doesn't mean however, you're getting off the hook for all the mayhem that you and Spritle caused today, mister. Your brother's already been punished for his part. Now your father and I need to decide, how to best discipline _you_." Mom Racer paused, then added quietly, "You do understand our point of view as parents. Right, Speed?"

Speed nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, Mom, I do," he replied, with a heavy sigh. "I deserve whatever you think, I should get." He closed his eyes, and swallowed hard. His mother lay an affectionate hand on his shoulder. At the same time, she gave him yet another small, sympathetic smile. One that told Speed, that although he was going to have to take his lumps for his recent madcap antics, his parents still loved him no matter what.

His father, meanwhile, had resumed his pacing again, his brows furrowed deep in thought. Deciding on a punishment for an 8-year-old was easy enough; in Spritle's case, a good butt-warming, a few extra chores around the house, and a reduction in the little fellow's weekly allowance would do just fine. But how did one discipline a teenager, who happened to be standing on the brink of adulthood?

Very, _very _creatively, it would seem.

Pops narrowed his eyes, and carefully considered the problem at hand with the air of a judge about to pass sentence on a defendant. "Hmmm! What to do about Speed," he said, gazing directly at his son. It was such an intense gaze, it made Speed even more uneasy than he already was.

He looked to his wife. "What do you think, honey?" Pops asked, wanting some input from his better half. "What kind of punishment, should we give Speed?"

Mrs. Racer contemplated the question for a moment or two. "Well, since he obviously has had enough energy to chase Spritle through the house...How about, he give me a hand with some of the housework for the next few days?" she dryly suggested. "The floors need to be vacuumed, there's laundry to be done, and--oh, yes. It's time for the monthly dusting and polishing of the trophy case and its contents."

Pops smiled, highly pleased. "Hah! I like it. I like the idea, dear. But that's not enough. We need something else. Something that'll really get his attention." He thoughtfully stroked his chin.

It didn't take the man long, to decide the rest of his son's punishment. "Now, Speed, you heard your mother. You're to help her with the housework this weekend," Pops said, turning his attention to Speed. "However—there's more. Even if Dr. Wilson clears you on Saturday for driving (which I imagine he will, given your present condition), you're forbidden from driving the Mach 5, until Tuesday. After which if you've behaved yourself, we'll restart your training for the next race. Do you understand??"

A dismayed Speed just nodded. Any further protest from him, and his dad was likely to make his punishment a lot worse. "Yes, sir. Is that all?"

"Actually, no. There is one other thing." Pops stared hard at his very uncomfortable son. "You might think I'm joking on this, but I'm actually dead serious about what I'm about to say. Since our spaghetti dinner was ruined tonight...Speed, you're gonna cook a replacement dinner Sunday evening. A full meal--the pasta, salad, garlic bread, and a dessert!--_by yourself. _"

The announcement (and the manner in which Pops had delivered it) caught Speed totally by surprise. His jaw opened, then dropped, in shock. Pops was expecting _him_, to cook an entire meal for the family on Sunday--?? "Wa...B-but, Pops!! I don't know anything about cooking!" he protested vehemently, looking like he'd just been hit in the back with a few ninja stars. "I'm lucky, I know how to put water on for tea or hot cocoa--!"

"Well, it's high time you learned!" his dad snapped irritably. "By rights, I ought to ban Trixie from the house this weekend. But I'm not...I'm gonna make an exception here. Starting with breakfast tomorrow, your mother is gonna teach you how to cook. And Trixie'll be her assistant."

Speed's demeanor perked up slightly when he heard that Trixie would be lending a hand. If she were going to be there...then how bad could this really be? he wondered.

Before he could even think of the possibilities, his thoughts were interrupted by a loud _Ahem! _Pops stood in front of Speed, glaring--and, scowling as usual. "Ah...not so fast, loverboy! I'm being serious about this, Speed!" Pops exclaimed, noting the slight smirk on Speed's face. "You'll be so busy cooking and cleaning, you won't have time for any smooching!"

He glanced at Speed's mom, and chuckled heartily. "Don't go too easy on him, dear. And make sure Trixie doesn't, either," Pops said, relishing his own cleverness, much to Speed's dismay. "After all, he _is_ being punished. But at the same time, this will be one skill that'll come in handy, once he's ready to strike out on his own."

Mrs. Racer laughed lightly. "Oh, don't worry, Dragon dear. Trixie and I will make sure, he learns his lessons well," she replied, her eyes alight with delight.

Pops threw his son a semi-fierce look. "And none of that making out in the kitchen, either!" he rasped, wagging a finger at a bewildered Speed. "You're in there to learn how to cook, not make out with Trixie. Save the romancing for later!"

Poor Speed shivered, and swallowed hard. This...was going to be a real disaster, he just knew it. Losing his driving privileges for the weekend? He could deal with that. Ditto for helping his mom around the house. But cooking--?? "Ohh, man! I'm doomed!" he groaned, squeezing his eyes shut and making a weird face.

His dad was far from finished with his list, however. It seemed that Pops had just tacked on a twist to the cooking plan--one that would really make Speed squirm. "...And furthermore, you'll have two chances to get things right on Sunday. If you don't do a good job on the pasta dinner (or after two tries and you still can't get it right)--don't expect to be in next weekend's Western 500!" Pops thundered. "I mean it, Speed. You'd better take this very seriously, if you want to be racing next weekend."

Speed's face turned white with alarm. Judging by the scowl on Pops' face, he knew his dad was in no joking mood on the matter. "Ohh, man. Now I'm doubly doomed!" he breathed, gulping nervously.

Hmm, let's see. Pass a "cooking exam??" In order to enter a race next weekend??--You know? Maybe Speed would have been better off, taking a good spanking instead!

Only, he's _waaay _too big for the spanking routine.

While Speed wrestled with his rather offbeat punishment, out in the hallway a very unhappy, teary-eyed Spritle shuffled back to his bedroom, sniffling back his tears. He was returning from the bathroom, rubbing his very sore behind. As he passed by his brother's bedroom he could hear Speed, still trying to protest the latter part of his punishment. _"Pops!! I'm telling you, you're asking for a miracle! I told you, I don't know the first thing about cooking--!"_

_"Speed, we won't have any back talk from you! That's your father's final word on the matter. Part of your punishment is that __you're__ going to cook Sunday dinner!" _was Mom's heated answer. _"Or I can have Trixie barred from the house, myself!"_

_"And don't argue with your mother, because I'll back her up!" _was Pops' comment on the situation.

Outside the bedroom door, poor Spritle really got upset. All he had heard was that as punishment Speed had to cook dinner on Sunday, and immediately the little boy's brain assumed the worst, that his older brother was practically getting off scot-free for his part in the prank war. "Whaat?? Speed only has to cook a spaghetti dinner??" Spritle cried, totally unhappy about the situation. "That's not fair!" Still sniffling back his tears, he made a beeline back to his bedroom and jumped back on his bed.

Chim Chim was snuggled under the covers when a sobbing Spritle flopped onto the bed, his tears flowing once again. He grabbed the chimp, and hugged him tightly. "Oh, Chim Chim, it's not fair. I get my allowance taken away, I get yelled at, and I get spanked so hard that my butt still hurts. And all Speed has to do is cook Sunday dinner!" Spritle bawled. "They're not even stopping him from seeing Trixie! It's just not fair, Chim Chim!"

Poor Chim Chim did the only thing he could do. He reached up and hugged his little master, hooting softly in an attempt to make him feel better. "Thanks, Chim Chim. At least you understand me," Spritle sniffled. "Not like Mom and Pops. They're playing favorites, I just know it. They always side with Speed..."

For several minutes, the room went quiet. The only sound to be heard was that of Spritle sniffling back his tears, although he could hear his parents' voices out in the hallway—they'd just left Speed's room, and were walking past Spritle's. _"I don't know, dear. Did we do the right thing? Were we a little harsh on the boys?" _Pops was saying. He sounded exhausted.

_"Of course we did the right thing, honey. We couldn't let that sort of thing go unpunished," _was Mrs. Racer's calm reply. _"How else can we discipline Speed, when he's already of legal age?"_

_"Well, as long as he resides in this house, he has to follow our rules. I had to be creative with him--we can't punish Speed, the same way we can Spritle." _Pops' voice trailed off, as he and his wife moved out of earshot.

Not quite out of earshot, however. Spritle then heard his mom again, saying something about inviting the Masked Racer to dinner tomorrow evening._ "...We haven't been able to properly thank him, for saving Speed from that horrible fire last weekend. And, looking after Spritle too."_

Pops agreed wholeheartedly with her suggestion. _"I think that's an excellent idea!"_

That really did it, in Spritle's mind. Hearing his parents talking outside his room only made the little boy even more agitated. Despite his mother's last comment about Racer X looking out after him in the aftermath of the kidnapping, he was now thoroughly convinced that Speed was getting the better end of the deal. "See? I told ya, Chim Chim. I was right!" Spritle groused, feeling very upset and angry. "They ARE favoring Speed. Just 'cause he's older!"

Suddenly, he leapt off the bed and went to his closet. He began to rummage for his little red travel suitcase. "Come on, Chim Chim. We're running away," Spritle announced, with a look of determination on his chubby little face.

He saw the puzzled expression on his pet's face then. "You're wondering why, aren't you?" Spritle asked, sitting back down on the bed next to Chim Chim. "Well, it's obvious, isn't it? They like Speed, a lot more than me. So I figure, we should go some place else where we'll _really_ be wanted!"

Chim Chim looked doubtful. He hooted softly, as if expressing his concern. Spritle saw the look on his face, and hastened to reassure his chimp pal. "Don't worry, Chim Chim. I think I know where we can go. Now, let's start packing!"

_Hoo, hoo!_ Chim Chim hooted softly.

The little chimp jumped out of bed and joined his master in a hasty packing job. Spritle found Chim Chim's matching suitcase, and together the pair began to pack as much stuff as they could into the travel bags. Just as Spritle finished rigging his bed to make it look like there was someone in it (a few pillows, and an extra rolled-up blanket or two under the covers worked just nicely), the little chimp waddled over to him, a small piggy bank and a sackful of sweets (Spritle's hidden stash of money AND candy) in his paws. _Eek eek eeek!! _Chim Chim chattered, putting the aforementioned items on the bed in front of Spritle.

Spritle looked up. He made a comic face when he saw what Chim Chim was pointing to—he'd nearly forgotten all about his secret stash! "Gee, Chim Chim! I almost forgot—we're gonna need money, _and_ candy for our trip! We'll stick this right in my suitcase." He stuffed the loose money from the piggy bank—all twenty dollars of it, mostly change--and the bag of candy into his already-overstuffed suitcase, then manged to somehow close the case shut.

Now, for the getaway...

Quietly, they snuck to the window and pushed it up. It opened without a sound, and quickly the two little runaways climbed through it. They climbed down a nearby tree, into the back yard. Spritle and Chim Chim then tip-toed to the rear of the house, where Spritle's latest building project--a complete miniature Model T, right down to the last authentic detail--sat. "There it is, Chim Chim. I finished it this morning, before Speed and I got into those silly pranks," Spritle whispered, his spirits lifted somewhat at the sight of his own handiwork. "But we gotta push it a ways from the house, we don't want Speed or Mom or Pops to hear us." Putting their suitcases into the small car, Speed's little brother and Chim Chim began to stealthily push the Model T around to the front of the house and over to the front gate. It was already dark, around nine pm or so, and the night sky was rather cloudy, as if a storm were on its way. Even so, Spritle managed to open the heavy front gate (with Chim Chim's help, of course), and the Model T was shortly being pushed down the street at a good pace, away from the Racer home.

Unfortunately, Spritle hadn't counted on the weather suddenly changing--for the worse. He and Chim Chim reached the end of the street and started to crank up the engine. Just as Spritle got behind the wheel (Chim Chim was riding shotgun in the passenger seat), the skies abruptly opened up and down came the rain! "Aaaack!!" Spritle yelled out, shivering as the cold driving rain descended upon him and Chim Chim. "Nobody told us, it was gonna rain--!!"

All that, just because of a simple misunderstanding...

55555555555555555555555555555555555

Halfway across the city, in an isolated house high on a hill overlooking the city limits, Racer X prepared to spend that rainy evening as he normally did after a long day's work at the track, sitting by the fire and watching a little television. This is, after he'd finished reading Interpol's final report on one of his previous cases...The rain was coming down in torrential sheets now, interspersed with the occasional rumble of thunder and the intermittent flash of jagged lightning, making Speed's elder brother grateful for a warm fire and a nice hot cup of tea.

He was just about to pull off his mask and get ready to retire for the night when over the crash of lightning and the rumble of thunder the sound of a car engine sputtering up the paved driveway caught the man's attention. "That's odd. Who'd be coming here at this hour? In this kind of weather?" Racer X mused to himself, rising from his comfortable armchair in front of the fireplace. Somewhere under the mask, an eyebrow was raised. "I'd better check this out."

Taking all necessary security precautions, Rex Racer went to the large bay window in the living room. He pulled back the curtains, and peered out into the front yard. To his great surprise, a miniature Model T was chugging its way up the gently sloped driveway. Although to Rex's amusement, it sounded like the car was badly in need of a good tune-up...Or more gas, as the car suddenly backfired and the engine noised ceased. That was replaced by the frantic, rapid chatter of a young child and a noisy chimpanzee as the two comically began to push the stalled vehicle towards the front door of the modern two-story ranch-style house.

A big grin lit up the Masked Racer's face. _There's no mistaking those voices. Spritle and Chim Chim! _was his immediate thought. _But what are they doing here??_

Just then, the doorbell rang. Shaking his head in bemused disbelief, the still-masked Rex strode to the door and opened it. "Yes?"

Standing on his doorstep, in pj's and totally soaked to the skin, were a sad-eyed Spritle Racer and a chattering Chim Chim. Both carried their little red suitcases in their hands. "Racer X? Can we stay the night with you?" a tearful, shivering Spritle asked, as the rain pelted him and Chim Chim.

--


	8. Chapter 8

_Chapt. 8 Racer X Hatches A Plan_

The sight of the two bedraggled, rain-soaked runaways standing on his doorstep shocked the Masked Racer. "Spritle ?? What are you and Chim Chim doing here?" Racer X asked, surprised. "What's going on? Come inside, before you're totally soaked and catch a chill." He hurriedly ushered Spritle and Chim Chim inside the house.

Poor Spritle was shivering badly. "But we're already soaked!"

"Well, I'll get you boys some towels, and you two can dry off in front of the fireplace. I'll be right back." After leading his visitors over to chairs in front of the warm, roaring fire, X disappeared into the bathroom to get some bath towels.

He returned to the living room a few minutes later, towels in hand. "All right. Here's the towels, boys. One for each of you," Rex said, handing Spritle and his pet chimp each a towel. "It's a pity I can't offer you my bathrobe like I did for Speed last week, but I highly doubt it'd fit you."

Spritle grinned. "That's ok. We have our own," he said, and pointed down at his little red suitcase.

The Racer boys' elder brother looked down at the suitcase, then up again at Spritle with a quizzical expression. Something told Rex that there was something wrong with this picture, but he couldn't quite figure out what that "something" was. "Say, now. What's with the suitcase, Spritle?" he asked kindly. "And why the long faces?"

Spritle and Chim Chim looked at each other. There was a slight pause. Then, "Chim Chim and I have decided to run away," Speed's younger brother declared, matter-of-factly.

Under that mask, an eyebrow shot up. "Run away!" Racer X exclaimed, genuinely bewildered. "Why would you want to do something like that, Spritle?"

The little boy shrugged. "Because."

"Because, what?"

"Because Mom and Pops like Speed, a whole lot more than they do me. They're playing favorites." Spritle pouted, as only he could.

Now the Masked Racer was certain, there was more to Spritle's story than what the child was letting on. Not that Rex hadn't heard that particular whine before---as he could recall, that had been one of Speed's favorite complaints when he'd been Spritle's age, especially when he felt he'd been unfairly punished! "OK, Spritle. I get the feeling, there's more to this than just your parents playing favorites," X said, with a knowing smile. "But, first. Why don't you two go change out of those wet pj's and into some dry ones? Then you can tell me, what's really bothering you."

Spritle's face brightened. "Then that means...we can stay the night, right?" he asked eagerly. Behind him, Chim Chim chattered away in eager agreement.

Racer X chuckled. "Well, I'm certainly not going to make you go back home in this weather. It's supposed to storm all through the night," he replied, amused. "I'm surprised that you made it here safely in your little Model T, to begin with."

Spritle giggled lightly. "Well, it was ok when we left the house. But when we got halfway to your place, we got caught in a real bad downpour," the lad responded, still drying himself off with the towel he'd been given.

Their host smiled. For once, Rex Racer found the thought of spending some real quality time with his youngest brother a pleasant one---without the worry of kidnappers lurking about this time. "Well, let me show you two to the guest room so you can change. I'll go put some water on for hot chocolate, and we can talk over cocoa."

Now, that was the kind of thing that was music to both Spritle's and Chim Chim's ears. "Oh, boy! Cocoa!" the little boy gushed, his eyes lighting up at the mere mention of hot chocolate. By now, he'd forgotten all about how sore his butt had been, from Pops' very enthusiastic spanking. "Sounds good to me! How about you, Chim Chim?"

_Hoo hoo hoo!!! _the little chimp excitedly nodded his head.

Racer X just laughed. "I'll take that, as a 'yes.' Do you two want marshmallows in your cocoa?" he asked, smiling.

Spritle nodded. "Yes, please."

X led his little guests down the long corridor to the guest room. It was the very same room, that Speed had slept in when all that kidnap nonsense had broken loose prior to last Sunday's race. "Here you go, Spritle. You and Chim Chim will be using this room tonight," he said, nodding to Spritle and Chim Chim to go in. "Don't worry, it's been freshened up since Speed was here last weekend."

"Thanks, Racer X. Me and Chim Chim really appreciate this." Spritle and Chim Chim marched comically into the guestroom.

Once they were inside and their host had left, Spritle put his suitcase down on the bed. He began to explore the room, attracted to the many racing trophies on the shelves in much the same manner as his older brother Speed had been. "Wow, Chim Chim. Look at all the trophies!" the lad exclaimed, awed. " Racer X is an awesome driver. I wonder if Speed'll ever win that many trophies!"

He turned to get his suitcase---and instead found his pet chimp, trying to get into it! "Hey, Chim Chim!" Spritle exclaimed, a comically annoyed look on his face. "That's _MY_ suitcase! I don't want you wearing my jammies!" He grabbed the red suitcase away from Chim Chim, then opened it and began to toss out clothes on the bed until he found his dry pajamas. "Now come on, Racer X is gonna have cocoa ready for us!"

_Hooo heee heee!! _Chim Chim chattered, eagerly changing into his pj's.

Ten minutes later, the little runaways entered the large, spacious (modern, for its time) kitchen. Racer X was bringing two steaming mugs of hot chocolate to the kitchen table. "Ah! I see you've finally dried off," Rex joked, seeing Spritle and Chim Chim hesitantly entering the kitchen. "Don't be afraid, I won't bite. Come on in, your cocoa's ready."

Eagerly, Spritle and Chim Chim took their places at the table. Rex sat across from them, looking relaxed but at the same time very attentive. For himself, a steaming hot cup of tea was the beverage of choice. "All right, Spritle, tell me what this is all about. Why are you and Chim Chim, running away?" the Masked Racer kindly inquired. "Did you and Speed get into a fight, or something?"

Spritle hesitated slightly. He sipped at the steaming mug of cocoa in his hands, then let out a sad little sigh. "Well...Yes, and no. Well, you know how Speed was earlier today, right? Restless, and all?"

His big brother nodded, a smile breaking at the corners of his mouth. "Ha, ha! I remember all too well," Racer X chuckled, recalling his arrival at the Racer home earlier that afternoon.

"Well, me and Speed got into a real prank war after you left, and..." A crestfallen Spritle launched into a recap of the day's antics, ending with the disastrous spaghetti dinner. "...Well, let's say we got carried away, and ruined dinner for everyone."

Somewhere under the mask, an eyebrow shot up. "I almost hate to ask. What did you and Speed do this time, to earn your parents' wrath?"

The lad blushed. "I put yarn in Speed's spaghetti. Then he switched plates on me, and I ended up with the yucky stuff."

At that, Rex Racer shook his head, trying not to laugh out loud. "Yarn in Speed's---!! Oh, you two! I gotta give you credit though, I certainly wouldn't have been able to dream up a prank like that. Not in a hundred years," he said, with a small chuckle. "But you still haven't explained to me, what made you and Chim Chim run away tonight."

"That's what I was just coming to! Speed and I both got punished---but he got a lesser punishment. I get a good butt-warming and I have to use my allowance to pay for the yarn I used AND the ingredients for the next spaghetti dinner, while Speed only has to cook a full spaghetti dinner on Sunday. They're not even bothering to keep him from seeing Trixie! It's sooo unfair, Racer X." Spritle wore this pouty look. The mere thought of Speed getting off the hook for his part in the prank war was upsetting the youngster again. "He didn't even get spanked!"

Racer X sipped his tea, then thoughtfully stroked his chin. Judging by Spritle's forceful comments, the elder Racer was beginning to see where this tale was going. _Why am I not totally surprised? Speed used to make the same complaints whenever he and I both were punished for something---he couldn't understand why he got the spanking, and I didn't! _he thought to himself, making a wry face at the memory. "I see," Rex said a moment or two later, leaning back in his chair. "Well, Spritle. I'm not sure what to tell you, but I'm positive it's not that your parents are playing favorites. I'm guessing, you only heard part of his punishment—I'm sure there's more to it, than just cooking a dinner for the family."

Spritle looked a little doubtful. "I dunno..." he hesitated. "I still don't understand why I got a spanking, and he didn't--"

Again, the mysterious, tight half-smile. "I'll try to explain it as best I can. It has to do with what's appropriate, for what age level," X replied kindly. "Speed's eighteen, now. So technically, he's an adult and generally, spanking him wouldn't be practical. But since he still lives under your parents' roof, he's subject to their rules and if he breaks any of those rules, he's liable to be disciplined. But they can't discipline him, the same way they can discipline you."

Spritle looked a tad mystified. "Huh?? Why's that, Racer X?"

"Because when one deals with teenagers, it's a whole different type of game altogether. Teens don't respond that well to physical punishment, so the parents have to find other ways to discipline them. You'll see what I mean, as you get older." X paused, and took another sip of his tea.

He got up then, and came around the table to where Spritle and Chim Chim were. "Listen, I'm going to let you in on a secret," X said, kneeling next to Spritle. "There's two things, most teenage boys fear. One is losing their set of wheels for any specific period of time. The second, is not being allowed to spend time with their girlfriends. Although I suspect in Speed's case, he probably has one more added possibility to worry about."

"What's that?" Spritle asked, his curiosity piqued.

"Not being allowed to race." A small smirk creased the corners of Rex's mouth, as he recalled his teenage years. How many times had he run afoul of his father's infamous temper, and gotten grounded because of it? "Racing is everything to a race car driver, Spritle. What do you think would happen, if Speed were told he wasn't being allowed to enter say, the Western 500 next weekend?"

The question made Spritle stop and think for a few minutes. Slowly, he began to see the Masked Racer's point. Physically Speed was simply "too big for his pants" now, and it made a lot of sense as to why Mom and Pops had punished him so...Although, Spritle mused to himself, he'd just love to know the rest of his brother's sentence! "Speed would go absolutely nuts!" the lad declared, trying not to laugh at the thought. "He hates not being able to drive the Mach 5!"

"Precisely. And I'll just bet that thought has crossed your father's mind, too. I wouldn't be surprised, if Speed entering that race isn't somehow tied into his punishment, and how he behaves between now and next Saturday." Racer X looked rather amused at the thought. Then as an afterthought he added in a semi-comic manner, "Well, I certainly hope he'll be there. Can't have a race without my best competitor being on the track, you know." He patted the child on the head with great affection, then got to his feet and returned to his chair.

Both Spritle and Chim Chim giggled. Leave it to the mysterious Masked Racer, to explain things and help settle everyone down! "Maybe it was a good thing we came here tonight, Chim Chim," Spritle said afterwards. "I guess I really jumped to conclusions, after hearing Mom and Pops yelling at Speed. I just hope when I get to be Speed's age, we don't have to worry about gettin' a butt-warming anymore."

Chim Chim agreed. _Aak aak!!! _he chattered softly.

Still, Spritle had more questions for his host. "Racer X? Can I ask you something?" the youngest Racer asked, looking at X over another cup of cocoa. "Were you ever grounded, when you were Speed's age?"

At that, Rex just couldn't help himself. The innocence of his baby brother's question got to him. He leaned back in his chair, and laughed. "Grounded? More times than I care to remember!" he replied jovially. "I was your typical teenage hot rodder, Spritle. And believe me, my dad was a lot like Pops." He made a wry face at the comic thought, recalling all too well Pops' reaction last Sunday to Speed and Spritle's kidnapping at the hands of Jack Wiley. _Pops hasn't changed a bit. He's still 'fight first, ask questions later,' _was the man's thought. "Any other questions?"

Spritle grinned. He felt a lot better, having talked things out with the man he knew only as, the Masked Racer. "Gee, thanks, Racer X. I feel a whole lot better, now," the lad said, relaxing in his chair. "I guess I just gotta wait 'til I get bigger, and maybe then Pops'll leave my butt alone."

X smiled. "I suppose that's one way of putting it."

The two brothers continued to talk over cocoa and tea for quite a while. Outside, the rain was picking up. Peals of thunder could be heard, and the occasional flash of lightning rattled the windows of Racer X's house. "Oh, yeah. Here's something else I overheard Mom saying," Spritle said, changing the subject. "I guess it got to me 'cause I only heard her mention you, in terms of what you did for Speed at Mr. Wiley's place. But she wants to invite you to dinner tomorrow night, and Pops agreed with her. Sort of like a ' thank you' for rescuing Speed---and I hope, for looking after me."

There was a twinge of envy in the child's voice, which X neatly picked up on. "Well, I'd be delighted to join you and the family tomorrow night, Spritle," he said, smiling again at his little brother. "Again, don't be too hard on your mother, now. You probably only heard part of what she was saying. And I know they're grateful for me watching over you two, because they told me so before they'd left your brother's hospital room for the night. And, besides." Racer X leaned forward, that quirky little smirk appearing on his face. He hadn't forgotten about the lovebirds---this would be the perfect opportunity for him, to help Speed and Trixie escape to the drive-in! "This way you can help me, help Speed and Trixie get out for the night after dinner. How about it, Spritle? Care to help me divert your father's attention away from those two lovebirds?"

Instantly, Spritle's chubby face lit up like a Christmas tree. "Ooh!!! You really mean that?" the lad squealed happily. "After all that me and Speed did today, you're still gonna send Speed and Trixie off to mushy-land?? Count me in!" He paused to catch his breath, then added, "What do I have to do?"

The grin on the Masked Racer's face widened. "It's simple. Since you managed to get that little Model T of yours up and running...Didn't you say, you needed some modifications done to it?" Rex casually asked.

Both Spritle and Chim Chim nodded eagerly. "Um, hmm. I need a bigger gas tank," Speed's younger brother said ruefully. "I ran out of gas, halfway up your driveway."

"Not to mention, a tune-up. Or, a new distributor cap." Rex grinned. Behind the mask, his midnight-blue eyes sparkled with a mischievous glint. When it came to scheming, the Racers' eldest brother was a pro...

...But playing Cupid for his lovestruck teenage brother and his girlfriend? This was definitely a first for the racer-turned-Interpol agent.

Spritle was eager to hear more of the man's plan. "OK, so how's that gonna spring my brother and Trixie to the movies? Pops'll be watching Speed, like a hawk," he pointed out.

"Not to worry! That's where you and your Model T come in," X replied deviously. Already he was mapping out his plan, even as he spoke. "No doubt you'll want your father to take a look at your design and get his help with the mechanical improvements, right?"

"Yeah."

"Well, then, you'll just haul Pops off to the garage after dinner, begging him to come look at your project. I'll lag behind a bit, and give Speed some kind of 'all clear' signal. Then I'll join you two in the garage. That should keep Pops occupied for a while, and allow your brother and Trixie to escape unnoticed."

Still, Spritle looked a little uncertain. "But, Racer X. What if Pops finds out? You know he'll blow a gadzillion gaskets if he catches Speed trying to sneak out of the house---"

Again, the devious tight half-smile from X. "I've already covered that possibility, Spritle," Rex answered, rather smugly. "You see, when I left your house this afternoon I didn't immediately return home. I went to see Dr. Wilson at his office, to talk to him about Speed's dilemma. He agreed with me, it's time for Speed to start getting back into racing shape and that it'd be fine by him if your brother went on his date with Trixie. As long as he's not doing the driving." He paused, then added impishly (as only a Racer could!), "So if Pops makes a squawk about things, I've got a trump card. I've got Doc Wilson to back me up, and if Pops needs any further convincing all he needs to do is call him!"

Spritle and Chim Chim broke into gales of giggles then. This ought to be good---Racer X, running interference for Speed and Trixie? "Oh, boy! Racer X, you're a genius!" Speed's baby brother hollered gleefully. "Maybe we shouldn't be calling you Racer X, or the Masked Racer. Maybe we oughta call you, 'Cupid' X!"

Racer X winced in comic dismay. "Good heavens! In one night I've gone from being the Masked Racer, to Cupid!" Rex groaned good-naturedly. "Better not let Speed get wind of this. Else he'll spread it to the whole Drivers' Union!"

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The heavy rains continued to pound the area hard that night. Jagged bolts of lightning lit up the darkened skies constantly, as the predicted thunderstorms rolled through unabated. In some places, scattered power outages occurred, plunging parts of the city into sudden darkness.

At the Racer home, order had finally been restored. Pops and Mrs. Racer were downstairs, watching a little television before turning in for the night. Upstairs, both Speed and Spritle had apparently drifted off to sleep, after a lot of crying and protesting on both boys' parts. Considering the turbulent chaos of a few hours before, peace and quiet was a luxury that Pops and his wife managed to enjoy despite the nasty weather outside.

Up in the solitude of his bedroom, a thoroughly dejected Speed tossed fitfully under the covers of his bed, unable to sleep. The events of the evening had been so humiliating, the young racer had neglected to change his clothes---he was still wearing his blue polo shirt and white pants to bed. It was bad enough, that he'd been sent to his room without finishing his dinner. He could deal with housework, and being banned from the Mach 5 for a few days. But learning to cook, under the watchful eye of both his mother and his girlfriend--?? Then having to cook an entire meal for the family, all by himself---??

Now that, was enough to give Speed the willies.

As he lay tossing about, a huge jagged bolt of lightning lit up the night sky, illuminating Speed's entire bedroom. That was followed by a large peal of thunder. Then suddenly, the overhead reading lamp over the boy's head went out, engulfing the room in total darkness and startling Speed into abrupt wakefulness. "Ahh! What the---!! OK, who turned out the lights on me??"

He fumbled from beneath his bedcovers, uncertain of his position within his room. "Mom!! Pops!! I think the lights just went out!" Speed hollered, a little alarmed.

Downstairs, the combination of the power outage and Speed's yelling caught his parents off guard. "Blast it!" Pops muttered. "There go the lights!"

Mrs. Racer sounded worried. "And that was Speed! Oh dear, I hope he's not having another one of those nightmares again---"

Her husband agreed. "I certainly hope not!"

Fumbling around in the dark, he managed to locate a pair of flashlights. "All right. I've got the flashlights," Pops huffed, handing his wife one. "We'd better go and check on the boys."

Mom nodded. "I'll see to Spritle. You check on Speed."

They hurried up the stairs, guided only by the beams from the flashlights. While Mrs. Racer headed for Spritle's room, Pops went to check on his middle son. "Speed?" he called out worriedly.

He could hear Speed stumbling around in his bedroom, muttering something to himself about "where's that darn flashlight??" Instantly, Pops pushed open the door, and trained the powerful beam from his flashlight inside. There was Speed sitting on his bed, looking quite flustered and a pained grimace on his face; in his haste to find a flashlight of his own, he'd managed to bang his left knee on the corner of his bed! "Speed!" Pops exclaimed, stepping into the room and watching his son comically rub his banged-up knee. "You all right? What happened?"

Speed winced painfully. "Oh, nothing to get all bothered about, Pops. Just banged my knee on my bed, when I went to find my flashlight," he replied, making yet another face. "What's with the blackout, anyways?"

His father glanced quickly out the window, at the worsening storm. "I imagine, it's the storm. I was just about to go to the basement and start up the emergency generator when your mother and I heard you yell. Mom was concerned, you might be having another nightmare again." Pops then turned his gaze on Speed, and noticed his rumpled clothing. "Don't tell me you were sleeping in your clothes, son," he teased.

Speed looked at himself, and felt his face redden. He hadn't realized, he'd forgotten to change into his pj's. "Ahh...I guess I was so upset about everything that happened tonight, I forgot to change," he replied sheepishly.

The room fell silent for several minutes then. Finally, Speed looked up at his dad, and sighed heavily. It might not ease his punishment, but he knew in his heart he had to apologize to his parents for his foolish behavior as of late. "Pops? About tonight," he began, slightly hesitant.

"What about it?" Pops said, frowning slightly.

"I want to apologize, for what happened tonight. I'm awfully sorry, Pops, I guess my frustration at staying in bed just got the better of me. There was no excuse, for the way I've been acting." Speed wore a crestfallen expression. "It won't happen again, I promise."

At that, his dad came over to his bed, and sat down beside him. He was actually smiling a little at Speed. "We know that, son. And I accept your apology," Pops said softly, putting a huge sinewy arm around the young racer's slender shoulders. "I'm sorry, too, for all the yelling. But your mom and I do expect, that you'll serve out your punishment as we discussed earlier. You do realize that, right?"

Speed just nodded. "Yes, sir. I do."

"All right. Get ready for bed. I've got to go downstairs to the basement, now." Pops clapped a huge hand affectionately on Speed's shoulder, then rose from the bed.

While her husband was checking to see that Speed was all right, Mrs. Racer in the meantime cautiously moved along the darkened hallway towards her youngest son's room, guided only by the beam of light coming from the flashlight she was holding. Other than hearing Speed's voice and that of his father, the petite, dark-haired woman thought that things were just a little too quiet----especially given the fact that both Spritle and Chim Chim normally made a fuss during thunderstorms.

Just as she approached Spritle's room, the lights miraculously came back on. Mom breathed a huge sigh of relief as the hallway lights returned. She didn't mind the thunder and lightning, but she wasn't very keen about blackouts and power outages. Oh, thank goodness! Now I won't be needing this, she told herself, clicking off the flashlight. Either Dragon's started the emergency generator, or power's been totally restored!

She opened the door to Spritle's room, and entered. Mrs. Racer flipped the wall switch nearest the door. At once, the room was bathed in light.

To Mrs. Racer's shock and disbelief, the room was also...Empty. "Spritle?" she called out, puzzled.

No response. A sense of worry and anxiety overcoming her, Spritle's mom hastily went to her young son's bed and pulled back the covers. All she found was a bundle of sheets and pillows, arranged to make it look like there were people in the bed. Mrs. Racer then looked up when she felt rain being blown into the room, and gasped in horrified shock.

_Spritle's window was wide open, allowing the rain and wind to blow in. Both Spritle and Chim Chim were nowhere to be seen._

Mom Racer's face went completely white then. All she could do at that point, was to scream for her husband and middle son. _**"Dragon !! Speed!! Come here---NOW!!! Spritle's gone!!!" **_she cried out, frantic.

Ohh, no. Not another Racer disappearing act...!

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	9. Chapter 9

_Chapt. 9 No Worries, Folks---Not Much!_

Hearing Mom's screams out in the corridor, Speed and his father looked up in alarm. "Pops!! What was that??" Speed gasped, his eyes going wide.

Pops looked worried. Very worried. "Sounds like your mother. I'd better go see what's wrong," he said, rising from Speed's bed.

Speed hastily jumped to his feet. "Hold on, Pops! I'm coming with you!" he called out, following his worried dad out into the hallway.

The two Racer men rushed down to Spritle's room. There they found a frantic Mrs. Racer emerging from her youngest son's bedroom, looking very pale and anxious. "Dragon! I'm glad you're here. It's Spritle! He's gone!" she cried out, relieved to see her husband and older son hurrying towards her.

"What!? He's gone---!!?" Pops looked shocked. Speed's face paled at the news, and he let out a loud gasp. He watched anxiously, as his father tried to calm his mother down. "Now, honey. Are you sure, Spritle's not in his room?" the young racer heard Pops gently inquire.

Mrs. Racer shook her head, fighting back her tears. She was really upset about the situation. "Dragon, I'm being serious! I looked everywhere in there. There was a rolled-up blanket and a bunch of pillows made to look like someone was in his bed. Spritle's not there, and neither is Chim Chim!" she answered shakily, and Pops hastened to physically comfort her.

Speed, meanwhile, took advantage of the moment to quietly slip inside his little brother's room. He took a good hard look around, and was just a little surprised. _Huh! This is unusual, _the teenager thought to himself. _That's not like Spritle and Chim Chim, to just run off on us like this..._

An uneasy feeling started to settle over Speed as he slowly moved around the bedroom. He noted with raised eyebrow the rolled-up blanket and the precise manner with which the pillows in Spritle's bed had been arranged, and the elder Racer boy began to wonder. Had his foolish actions earlier that evening, possibly caused his baby brother to do something rash?

Or, something even worse. Had someone broken into the house, and abducted both Spritle and Chim Chim from this very room? Speed didn't want to believe that possibility...

...Then, he saw the open window.

The rain continued to blow into the room at an even harder clip now. The curtains swayed ominously to and fro. Almost immediately, Speed felt his heart practically leap straight up into his throat. Call it post-kidnap jitters or whatnot, but the sight of the rain coming in through the fully-opened window was enough to make the young racer think the worst. "Pops, look at this!" Speed yelled, convinced that someone had snuck in and snatched both Spritle and Chim Chim. "Spritle's window! It's wide open!"

Pops entered the room, followed by his visibly-nervous wife. He glanced around, saw what his son was pointing to, and quickly hurried over to investigate. "Hmmm. Why would the window be open, in weather like this?" Pops mused, eying the window with some suspicion.

Suddenly, he turned to leave the room. An idea had just popped into his head, one that he felt he should check out if only to rule out any possible foul play. "Honey? You and Speed stay here," Pops said, on his way out. He was making an effort to remain calm about this unexpected situation. "I'm going downstairs for a moment. I'll be right back."

"Where are you going?" Mom Racer asked anxiously.

"I'm gonna go check the burglar alarm. Unless it's been somehow disabled, if there had been an intruder in the house the alarm should have gone off and alerted the police." Pops hurried down the hall, towards the top of the staircase.

"Be careful, Pops!" Speed called out after him.

He and his mother remained in Spritle's room, waiting. About ten minutes later Speed's dad returned, a bewildered expression on his face. "I don't understand it," he muttered, as he walked back into his youngest son's room. "The alarm's OK. It's still on and it hasn't been tampered with---"

"So...What are you saying, Dragon? Where's Spritle?" Mom asked, her eyes filling with worry.

Her husband sighed. "What I'm saying is, no one broke in and took him. My theory is, he and Chim Chim ran away," Pops answered wearily.

Mom still had difficulty believing that her youngest son would leave without telling anyone. "But why? Why would he do a thing like that for?"

While his parents tried to figure the reason for Spritle's apparent running away act, a brooding Speed dropped down on his little brother's bed, an air of guilt about him as he listened to Mom and Pops discussing the situation. The fact that Spritle might have run off quickly triggered feelings of guilt in the teen, and he lowered his head. _Spritle and Chim Chim ran away, and it's all my fault, _Speed thought morosely to himself. _Mom was right---I shouldn't had retaliated tonight at the dinner table. If I hadn't pulled all those pranks with Spritle, he and Chim Chim would still be here!_

Mrs. Racer then noticed her son's brooding mood. "Speed, dear. Is something the matter?" she asked kindly.

Speed breathed a heavy sigh, and shook his head. "I'm sorry, Mom. It's all my fault," he murmured unhappily.

"What do you mean?" his mother said, puzzled by his reaction.

"Spritle and Chim Chim are gone because of ME!!!" Speed suddenly broke down into tears. "If I hadn't pulled all those pranks on him...If I hadn't yelled at him, or been so mean to him... He'd still be here right now!!! I'm such an idiot..." Sobbing, he buried his face in his hands.

At once, his mother sat down on the bed next to him. She put an arm around her son's shoulders, in an effort to comfort him. "I'll never forgive myself, if anything's happened to him!" Speed sobbed.

Here, his father decided to step in. "Now son, I don't want to hear you talk about yourself like that! You're no idiot," Pops firmly said, eying Speed with concern. "You've already been punished by us for your previous actions, you don't need to punish yourself for something that's not your fault---"

Speed suddenly looked up. "B-but P-Pops! It _IS_ my fault!" he insisted. "It's all my fault, Spritle's gone!"

"Nonsense!" his dad scoffed. "Now let's put our heads together here, and focus on putting a search out for Spritle and Chim Chim. Speed, there is something you can do to help."

"Like, what?" Speed asked, baffled.

"You call Trixie and Sparky, and see if you can get them over here. While you're on the phone, I'll go round up some of the neighbors. Then, I'll call Inspector Detector. Racer X too, if I have to." Pops started to head for the door.

"Yeah. If they still want to have anything to do with me, after tonight's dinner fiasco," Speed mumbled.

His mother smiled, and affectionately reached up to brush back the hair off his forehead. "Oh, Speed. Would Trixie have agreed to help me teach you about cooking, if she didn't?" she said softly.

Speed paused, then reflected a moment on his mom's words. "I suppose, you're right..."

"Well, of course your mother's right!" Pops chimed in. "Speed, Trixie's a fine girl. If she were really that mad at you, she wouldn't even want to see you. Let alone, come over to help with your cooking lessons! Now I may give you lovebirds a little grief over your smooching in the house from time to time, but that's because Spritle's too young to see that sort of thing going on. Besides," Pops added, with a slight laugh, "that's what drive-in movie theaters are made for!"

He clapped a huge hand on Speed's shoulder. "Don't worry, son. We'll find Spritle and Chim Chim,' his dad said, massaging Speed's shoulder. "I'm guessing he didn't take his punishment very well, and maybe he thought we were being unfair with him. Now, you just go make those calls to Trixie and Sparky, while I go round up a search party. I'll be surprised, if Spritle and Chim Chim even left the neighborhood in this weather."

Speed got to his feet. He did feel a little better, although he still wasn't convinced that his actions had nothing to do with Spritle running away. In fact, he was downright worried. "Okay."

The raven-haired teen was soon on the phone to his girlfriend. _"Trix? Hi, it's Speed...Listen, I'm awfully sorry about tonight. But right now, I need help from both you and Sparky---"_

Over at her apartment not far from the airfield, Trixie sat on the sofa in her living room, taking note of the agitation in her boyfriend's voice coming over the phone line. _"Oh, Speed, it's okay_," she reassured him. _"__I will agree with Pops, your behavior was a little on the juvenile side. But it's not __the_ _end of the world. Of course I forgive you." _Trixie paused, then became serious. _"Now what do you need my help with this time?"_

_"It's Spritle. Trixie, he's gone! We think he and Chim Chim ran away." _A worried, breathless Speed quickly told her the entire story. _"---And well, when we got there the window was wide open, and Spritle had made his bed look like there was someone sleeping in it. I was afraid that somebody might've broken in and kidnapped both Spritle and Chim Chim, but Pops checked our alarm system and said it was still set, nobody's tampered with it...Trixie, I'm really worried," _Speed said, once he'd related his story.

Trixie was disturbed by the news. _"__Huh! That's unusual for Spritle to do something like that,"_she commented. _"Where could he and Chim Chim, gone to?"_

_"Yeah. Especially in this weather!" _was Speed's reply.

His girlfriend got up from her sofa, having made her decision._ "All right. Speed, don't worry. I'm __sure we can find your brother," _Trixie said, looking around for her car keys. _"__I'll call Sparky, and __we'll head over to your place pronto. Though I doubt, we ought to use the helicopter. Not in this storm---"_

_"Noted, and agreed Pops was talking about a ground search in the neighborhood, anyways. He doesn't think, those two went very far...Thanks, Trixie. That makes me feel a lot better. And tell Sparky, I owe him an apology for tonight as well. I'll make it up to both of you, honest."_

Trixie giggled. _"__You had better! Or next time, I just might __not__ help you with your cooking __lessons! And Sparky just might __not__ want to work your next race,"_she playfully zinged back at Speed, who emitted a loud groan over the line. "_Don't worry, Speed. Sparky and I'll be right over."_

Speed breathed a huge sigh of relief. _"Thanks, Trixie. You're the best."_

After she got off the phone with Speed, Trixie immediately called Sparky to tell him of the Racers' situation. _"__Sparky? It's Trixie. Listen, get your things together, I'm coming to pick you up. Speed just called, and he's in a bit of a panic...Spritle and Chim Chim have run off, and the Racers need our help to find them..." _

About a half-hour later, the two teens arrived at the Racer house. They were met at the door by a very worried Speed. "Hey, man. We got here as fast as Trixie's car could get us," Sparky exclaimed, as Speed let them into the house. "What's this about Spritle and Chim Chim being gone?"

Speed heaved a heavy sigh. "We're not sure. Pops thinks, they might've run away," the young racer replied.

Sparky scratched the back of his head, puzzled. "Gee! That sure isn't like your kid brother, Speed," he commented dryly.

Speed winced, and grimaced. "Tell me about it! Pops is organizing a search party now," he answered, escorting his friends in.

Suddenly, the teen stopped, and briefly looked down at the floor. If there were a good time to apologize to his friends in person, now would be the time. "Hey, uh, Sparky? I uh, I want to apologize for tonight's disaster at dinner," Speed said, sighing nervously. ""I owe you and Trixie one, big time---"

Sparky just grinned. No matter how stubborn his pal was, the Go Team's ace mechanic just couldn't stay mad at the team's top driver forever. "Aw, Speed, forget about it. It's no big deal," he said, putting a friendly arm around Speed's shoulders. "Right now, we're here to help you and your folks find Spritle. You can make it up later by showing off those new cooking skills, Trixie and your mom are gonna teach ya." In reply, Speed shot his buddy an odd look.

Better get used to the teasing, Speed. The word's getting around---fast!

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While the Racers focused their energy on organizing a search party, Spritle and Chim Chim meanwhile continued to enjoy their host's hospitality.

The storm had, as with so many other residences in the area, knocked out power to the Masked Racer's home during the course of the evening. That situation had been quickly remedied, for almost as soon as the lights went out Rex Racer had a backup generator up and running, enabling the power to come back on.

Not that it bothered the two little runaways. Spritle and Chim Chim had spent the evening sitting at the kitchen table, enjoying both the many mugs of hot cocoa and Racer X's many stories of his racing exploits. It was now close to eleven o'clock. "All right, Spritle. I think we ought to give your parents a call, and then it's off to bed," Racer X said kindly, smiling at his little brother.

Spritle cast a pouty look at his big brother. "Aww, do we have to?" he pleaded plaintively. "I was kinda hoping, I could wait 'til morning--"

Racer X leaned back in his chair, and chuckled. "I know, but your parents must be frantic by now. Besides, we've got a full day ahead of us tomorrow," he cheerfully informed the youngster.

Instantly, Spritle's pouty little face brightened. His wide, expressive brown eyes were filled with eager anticipation. "OK! What are we gonna do?"

Again, the small, tight half-smile. "Well, I'm planning to take you the candy shop and help you replace all that candy you lost in the hospital parking lot last Sunday night--"

"Yeah. Those bullies on bikes made me drop my goodies. Then a car backed up over all of it," Spritle groused, annoyed at the memory. Chim Chim made all sorts of little chimp noises in agreement.

"Not to worry, Spritle. You'll get your candy back---and then some," the Masked Racer replied, still smiling. "Then I thought I'd take you to lunch afterwards, before taking you home. I just hope Trixie's still at the house when we get there, I need to talk to both her and Speed about our er, little 'plan' for tomorrow night?" He winked deviously at his baby brother.

Spritle caught his meaning, and grinned back in reply. "Aw, yeah! Distracting Pops, so that Speed and Trixie can go to Mush-land!" the lad chortled happily.

"Yes. But before I take you candy shopping and to lunch, I've got to take the Shooting Star over to the track garage. She feels like the rear axle's a little loose, and I want my chief mechanic to take a look." Rex paused, then downed the rest of his tea in one long draught. "A good driver always listens to his car, Spritle. Whether he be on the track, or driving down the street to the grocery store. It wouldn't do for me to enter next week's Western 500 if the Shooting Star broke down in the middle of the action now, would it?"

Spritle comically shook his head. Chim Chim mimicked him. Funny, that was something that Speed was fond of saying... "Uh-uh! No way!"

Rex Racer grinned. "Then it's settled. First we'll call your parents, then it's off to bed with you two!"

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Back at the Racer home, the search party which Pops Racer had organized proved futile in the driving rain. There was no sign of either Spritle or Chim Chim, anywhere in the neighborhood.

Speed, his parents, Trixie and Sparky all gathered in the kitchen. All wore worried expressions, although Speed was feeling worse than ever. He sat at the kitchen table, his chin propped up in his hands. A turkey sandwich and a glass of milk were set before him, untouched.

In the doorway between the kitchen and the living room, an anxious Mom Racer pulled her husband aside. "I made Speed a sandwich, as you asked. But he's showing no interest in eating," she whispered worriedly to Pops. "I'm worried about him, Dragon."

Pops glanced over at his son. Speed seemed anxious...Dejected, even. "He's blaming himself for Spritle running away, and he shouldn't be," he answered in a low voice, equally concerned.

He glanced back towards the activity in the kitchen. Both Sparky and Trixie were trying to cheer up their unhappy friend. "Oh, c'mon, Speed. Please don't beat yourself up like this," Pops heard Trixie worriedly plead with her boyfriend. "It's not your fault!"

"Hey, and if you don't want your turkey sandwich I'll gladly take it off your hands," Sparky added, jokingly reaching for Speed's plate. Startled, Speed looked up, saw what his pal was up to, then shot him a dirty look.

Pops sighed, and sadly shook his head. He was beginning to think that perhaps if he'd known about the chaos his family would have to deal with over the course of the week since the Trans-Country race, he would've made Speed stay in the hospital a few extra days! On a more serious note, Speed's self-imposed guilt trip had the race car designer very worried. _How can I get Speed to lighten up, and realize that he alone isn't responsible for Spritle's actions tonight? In some respects, I suppose we're all responsible, _was Pops' anxious thought. _The boy's literally tearing himself apart for this, now!_

He moved into the kitchen then, over to where Speed was sitting. "Son, Trixie's right. You've got to stop tearing yourself up," Pops said, gently laying a hand on Speed's shoulder. "We will find Spritle and Chim Chim, one way or another." He affectionately patted the teenager's shoulder.

A dejected Speed shook his head. "How, Pops? I mean, the whole neighborhood was out in the rain searching, and we couldn't find any leads..." The demoralized young racer heaved a heavy sigh.

"I know, Speed. All we can do now is contact Inspector Detector, and get his men on the case. And, Racer X as well." Speed's dad gazed down at his troubled son, and once more patted his shoulder.

Just then, the phone in the hallway rang. Mrs. Racer, who was closest to the telephone, moved to answer it. _"Hello, Racer residence..."_

Then was a tense pause. Then, a familiar deep male voice came over the line. _"Mrs. Racer? It's Racer X. Forgive me for calling so late, but...Are you and Pops by any chance, missing an eight-year-old boy and a boisterous chimp??"_

Boy, that Racer X sure has impeccable timing. Doesn't he?

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	10. Chapter 10

_**Author's Note: **__Sorry this took so long to post, been busy with making Christmas ornaments and battling another one of my infamous chronic sinus infections again. Add a major case of writer's block, and I had a dickens of a time getting back into writing mode._

_Chapt. 10 An Unexpected Encounter_

For a moment Mom Racer stood there in the hallway, speechless. A look of shocked disbelief registered on her face. _**"Why...Why, yes. How did you know?"** _she asked finally._ **"Have you seen them?"**_

On the other end of the line, Racer X let out a hearty chuckle. **_"Seen them? They're sitting at my_ _kitchen table,_**_ **drinking hot chocolate and staying out of this rain,"** _was the Masked Racer's cheerful reply.

Still, Speed and Spritle's mother had a hard time believing what she was hearing. _**"What?! Repeat what you** **said...What did you just say?"** _Mrs. Racer exclaimed, once the realization of Racer X's words had sunk in.

_**"I said, they're in my kitchen. Having a nice mug of hot cocoa."** _Again, Rex Racer chuckled smugly.

Instantly, the expression on Mrs. Racer's face changed from one of shocked disbelief to immense relief._ **"You** **mean to tell me, they made it all the way to your house? In this weather?"**_ she inquired anxiously._ **"Are they all right? Can I speak to Spritle?"**_

X laughed. _**"Of course."**_

While Mom continued talking, her excited tone of voice quickly got the attention of Pops and the three teens in the kitchen. "Hey, uhh...Pops? Did I just hear Mrs. Racer right?" Sparky said hoarsely, looking quite baffled. "Did she just say, she wanted to speak to Spritle??"

"You heard right, Sparky." Snorting, Pops called out to his wife. "Honey? Who's that on the phone, and what's going on?"

Immediately, Mrs. Racer excused herself to her caller. "_Excuse me, Racer X. I think I had better tell my husband, what's going on," _she quipped, then cupped her hand over the receiver. "It's Racer X, dear. Would you believe, Spritle and Chim Chim are over at his house, having cocoa??"

Naturally, that got the head of the Racer clan all flustered and comically red in the face. He couldn't believe this---Spritle and the family pet, making it all the way out to the Masked Racer's house?? In this horrendous thunderstorm?? The news was enough to make Pops Racer, as Spritle would put it, "blow a gasket."

As usual.

Pops' face reddened even more as the news of his young son's whereabouts finally hit home. "_Whaaat???!" _he huffed, smacking his forehead with a huge hand. "Those two scamps are having cocoa with the Masked Racer, while we've been worried sick about them???" Hastily the big man rushed from the kitchen into the hallway, still muttering in comic disbelief. "That rascally Spritle, he and Chim Chim are just as bad as Speed sometimes! All three of 'em are enough to give me a heart attack...Here. Let me have a word with Racer X!" Pops snatched the phone from his relieved---and secretly chuckling!--wife, then spoke into the receiver. _**"Racer X? Pops Racer here. I demand to know, how on earth did my son and Chim Chim manage to get all the** **way to your place on a night like this??!!"**_

In the kitchen, Speed and his pals looked up at the sound of his father's voice. "Speed!" Trixie whispered excitedly to her boyfriend. "Did you hear that? Your brother's over at Racer X's house. Having cocoa!!" She rolled her eyes as she made that last comment.

Sparky grinned. "Gee! Wonder how he managed to get out that far," he wisecracked, then turned to Speed, who was still moping at the kitchen table. "Say, Speed. Isn't Racer X's place on the other side of town? Not far from the track?"

Speed nodded. "Yeah, it is. I don't know how Spritle and Chim Chim got out there, Sparky. Your guess is as good as mine," he replied quietly. Part of him still felt guilty over the way things had gone that day. Yet at the same time, the fact that his baby brother had had the presence of mind to seek out someone like the Masked Racer...Well, that did relieve the young man considerably.

Just then, they heard Pops bellow again. Although this time, there was a sense of relief to the man's voice. _**"I demand to speak with Spritle, this instant! I have a few choice words, for that little scamp...!"**_

Speed couldn't help himself then. He tried to stifle a smirk, and rose from his chair. "Excuse me, guys. But I have a few words I want to say to that uh, scamp brother of mine too," he said, exiting the kitchen.

He hurried into the hallway. "Hey, hold on, Pops! I've got something I wanna say first," Speed called out. "Besides, it's my fault he left like that. I need to apologize to him."

Pops narrowed his eyes as the teen approached. "Now, Speed, let me speak first...," he began, looking a tad flustered.

"Aw, Pops, please! I just want to apologize to Spritle. I won't take that long---" The look that Speed was shooting his father was enough to melt an iceberg. (Who or what could resist those baby blues of Speed's, anyhow?)

His dad sighed. That Speed! Sometimes, Pops wondered whether he'd raised the next Formula One champ, or a con artist! "Well...if it'll make you feel better..." He handed his son the phone. "...But don't hang up when you're done, I still want to talk to Spritle!"

A grateful Speed nodded. "Thanks, Pops."

A pause. Then, "_**Hello? Spritle?"**_

Over at the Masked Racer's house, the sound of Speed's voice over the phone line made Spritle jump off his chair and grab the phone from Rex's hand. _**"Speed!!!"**_ the little boy cried out, forgetting how he was supposed to be mad at his older brother.

The sheer volume of his little brother's yell made Speed comically wince. There was no doubt in his mind—Spritle was showing signs of having inherited the infamous Racer loud mouth! "Ahhh!!! Spritle!!! My ears!!!" the older boy yelped, making a face.

A childish giggle met his ears. _**"Sorry, Speed!" **_was Spritle's eager reply.

For a moment or two, silence engulfed the hallway between the kitchen and the living room, as Speed tried to find the right words to say to his baby brother. After several minutes, the teen sighed. _**"Listen, Spritle. I want to apologize. I'm really sorry about making you run away tonight--"**_

On the other end of the line, Spritle fought back his tears. How could he tell his beloved big brother, it'd been all a big misunderstanding---and, a little green-eyed monsterlike behavior? _**"Uh-uh. You didn't make me and Chim Chim run away, Speed. I made myself run 'cause I thought, you got off easy for tonight's prank," **_the youngster sheepishly admitted.

_**"What do you mean, Spritle?"**_

_**"Just what I said. I guess...I thought you got the lighter punishment, and that made me real mad. All I heard from Pops was, you gotta cook dinner Sunday night."**_

At that, Speed made a weird face. _**"Oh, is that so?? Hey, Spritle. You're the one who got off easy. I gotta do a whole lot more, than just cook Sunday dinner," **_the elder Racer boy retorted. _**"A), if I don't get dinner right , I don't get to race next weekend. And Pops is only giving me two chances to get it right! B), I gotta help Mom with the housework. ..As it is, I'm banned from using the Mach 5, until next Tuesday...!!" **_

He could hear Spritle in the background, whining a bit. _**"Well, I didn't know that, Speed. Honest! I'd just come out of the bathroom when I heard Pops give it to you about cookin' Sunday dinner. I didn't hear anything else!"**_

Speed emitted a small groan of mock dismay. _**"Ohh, he gave it to me good, all right. I may have not gotten my butt warmed like you did but when you get to be my age---believe me, this sort of thing hurts worse than a spanking!" **_He paused, then his tone of voice changed to one of brotherly concern. Although Spritle could be an annoying pain of a little brother at times, Speed knew deep down within himself that he'd be devastated if anything had happened to the youngster. _**"Listen, Spritle. Please don't run off on us like that, ever again. I thought someone had broken into your room, and kidnapped both you and Chim Chim! Not to mention, you had Mom and Pops frantic with worry..." **_

_**"Really? They were that worried?" **_Over in the Masked Racer's kitchen,Spritle's eyes widened as he realized, just how much of a scare he and Chim Chim had thrown into his family._** "Gee! And what about you, Speed?"**_

His big brother sighed._** "Yeah, Spritle, they were. And so was I. I was actually blaming myself**_ _**for your running away,"**_ Speed replied quietly._**"I was afraid, I'd never see you again." **_

Spritle took a moment to digest his brother's words. Having had Racer X explain things to him and now hearing Speed's explanation, the little boy was beginning to regret his rash actions of that evening. _**"Gee, Speed, I feel real bad now. But it helped that Racer X explained things to me and**_ _**Chim Chim tonight,"**_ he answered, a contrite expression on his chubby little face. _**"Let's chalk this whole thing up to a whole big misunderstanding, and I promise we'll never run away like this again!"**_

Speed shot up an eyebrow. "No kidding, it was a misunderstanding!" he muttered, under his breath.

Suddenly, their father's voice boomed out. "All right, Speed. It's _MY_ turn!" Pops exclaimed, motioning for Speed to hand him the phone.

Speed broke into an impish grin. _**"Hey, Spritle. Better look out, Pops is coming on the line!" **_he teased, with a whispered laugh.

Immediately, Spritle's eyes flew wide open with comic alarm, much to big brother Rex's amusement. He nervously turned to his host. "Uhh...Racer X? It's for you now!" he gulped.

Rex chuckled, and smiled. "Hmm! Trying to pass me on to your father now, eh?" he joked.

Spritle looked up at him with those expressive, wide brown eyes. "I don't know what you mean!" he said innocently.

X just shook his head as he took the phone from his younger brother. "I just bet, you don't."

At that point, Pops' voice exploded over the phone line. _"**SPRITLE!!! I'M TALKING TO YOU!!!---I expect an** **answer from you, young man--!!!"**_

Racer X grimaced, and pulled the receiver away from his ear. Poor Spritle closed his eyes, scrunched up his face and covered his ears, while poor Chim Chim hopped off his chair and cowered in comic terror at the sound of Pops' voice.

_**Eeek!! Eeek!!! **_the chimp screeched loudly.

_**"Pops!!! Will you please tone it down, you could make a dead man deaf!!" **_X exclaimed, still holding the receiver at arm's length.

Naturally, Pops' response was just as loud and boisterous. **"_Who says I'm making who, deaf??" _**he bellowed, comically annoyed. Behind him stood Speed, his mother, Trixie and Sparky. All were trying to stifle a collective laugh as the burly car designer ranted on.

_**"That's just my point! This is Racer X, you're talking to. Not your...'Little rascal' of a son!" **_Rex winced.

_**"Well. I still want to talk to Spritle..."**_

_**"He will. If, you lower your voice."**_

There was a comic pause. Pops sighed heavily moments later, looking rather...Defeated, as it were. _**"Unghhh!!! You drive a hard bargain, X, but all right. Just put him on, so I can tell 'em how **__**worried he made us.** **And no, we're not mad at him, either!"** _The Racer patriarch paused yet again. Then, almost as an afterthought he added, _**"But tell me just one thing, Racer X. How did Spritle and Chim Chim, get out to** **your house in the first place??"**_

A quiet chuckle greeted his ear. _**"Well, I'm sure he'll be glad to hear that you and Mrs. Racer aren't mad at him about this. And as for your last question, Pops? I can tell you that myself," **_Rex said, winking at a giggling Spritle. _**"That little Model T, he's been working on. Did a really nice job on it, if I do say so myself. Although... " **_The smile on the eldest Racer brother's face widened. _**"...It could use a few modifications. Such as, a bigger gas tank.---Spritle ran out of gas, halfway up my driveway."**_

At that, Pops burst into a hearty laugh. _**"So the little scamp's finished his pet project, eh? And he didn't tell** **me...??"**ll _he joked. _**"Well, I'll just have to inspect it when he gets home, then."** _He paused, then added in a more serious tone, _**"You will bring Spritle and Chim Chim home, I hope---"**_

_**"Oh, absolutely!" **_the Masked Racer assured him. _**"I thought they could stay the night given the weather outside, if that was all right by you and Mrs. Racer. I'll have Spritle and Chim Chim home tomorrow, right after lunch—I was thinking of taking them out to lunch before dropping them off."**_

Pops and his wife exchanged glances. A vastly-relieved Mom Racer nodded her approval. _**"Well, I suppose** **that would be all right. If it isn't too much trouble for you--"**_

_**"I assure you, Pops, it's no trouble at all."**_

**_" __Fine, then. Now, let me speak with Spritle, please."_**

A few minutes later, a nervous Spritle was back on the phone. _**"Please don't be mad at me, Pops!" **_the lad wailed comically. He was afraid, that his dad just might add on to his punishment. Chim Chim cowered behind the little boy, chattering nervously. _**"I promise that me and Chim Chim, we won't run away again. Ever!"**_

His father merely chuckled, his face flooded with relief. _**"Relax, you little rascal!"** _Pops boomed, bemused by his youngest son's panicked response. _**"We're all just glad you managed to find a safe place. Especially your brother---Speed was going out of his mind, worrying about you!"**_

Racer X had to chuckle, as he watched his baby brother breathe a huge sigh of relief. The whole situation once again flooded the elder Racer with memories of his own childhood. It was funny, in an odd sense---the way Speed worried about Spritle now, was the same way Rex himself used to worry about Speed when the younger boy was Spritle's age... _**"So...it's okay, that we stay at Racer X's tonight?" **_the racer-turned-secret agent heard Spritle ask timidly.

_**"Yes, yes. Your mother says it's ok, and it's ok by me. But we do expect you to behave yourself while you're over** **there, and listen to Racer X. Understood?"**_

Standing behind his father, Speed cupped his hands around his mouth, and yelled loud enough for his brother to hear, "And whatever you do, Spritle. DON'T try Racer X's mask on!!!"

Pops furrowed his brow. "He'd better not! You gave us enough of a scare with that last weekend, Speed," he retorted, throwing a sideways semi-glare in Speed's direction.

Poor Speed tried to stop himself from blushing, much to a giggling Trixie's amusement. "That's not funny, Pops!" he cried, red-faced.

Spritle grinned. This was going to be fun, staying the night at the Masked Racer's home. Especially since there was a promised trip to the candy store in the morning! _**"Don't worry, Pops, we'll be good. Right, Chim Chim?" **_he asked, turning to the little chimp.

An excited Chim Chim jumped up and down, chattering noisily and head bobbing all the while. _Ack ack ack aaack!!! _he hooted.

At the Racer home, Speed and his parents couldn't help but laugh at his little brother's eager prattling. Knowing that Spritle and Chim Chim were both safe and sound---and, staying with a very familiar friendly face---made the teen racing star feel much better. Although, Speed mused to himself, it seemed that Racer X had once again come to the family's rescue; it was almost as if the Masked Racer wanted to become part of the Racer household.

Of course, if only Speed and his family knew the truth...

999999999955555555599999999

That night, everyone in the Racer household was finally able to get a good night's rest, their minds put at ease knowing that Spritle and Chim Chim were safe and sound at Racer X's house. The heavy rains continued on through the night, but it didn't matter much; the noise from the storm disturbed no one. All slept soundly...

_...Or did they??_

Over at his home on the edge of the city, the Masked Racer was making sure his little guests were comfortable in their bed. Already Chim Chim was fast asleep, while Spritle had just jumped into the guest bed. "Good night, Spritle. Good night, Chim Chim," X said, before turning off the light.

Snuggled cozily beneath the covers, a very tired Spritle peered out over the edge of the blankets. "Good night, Racer X," he yawned sleepily.

His elder brother chuckled softly. "If there's anything you need, Spritle, just remember. My room is just down the hall, on your left. The bathroom is to your right."

"OK." With yet another yawn, Spritle drifted off into sleep.

Rex Racer smiled at the scene, then quietly switched off the light. He strode to his own bedroom, pulled off his mask, then began to peel for bed. At the same time thoughts of the past week's events flowed through his mind---some comic, some very serious---and he frowned as he reflected upon them. How he'd nearly lost his younger brother Speed in that basement fire at Jack Wiley's mansion, and how Wiley's blatant disregard for the rules led to that very situation in the first place. _Speed, we were lucky this time. . Damn lucky! I hope you'll never have to face another situation like that, again! _was Racer X's private thought, as he climbed under his own covers and then reached to turn off his bedside light. Soon, the entire house went dark and still.

End of "The Spritle Incident," right?

_Wron-nngg!!!_

About three in the morning, Racer X was abruptly startled out of a sound sleep by a strange thumping noise just outside his bedroom. For a brief moment he tensed up, remembering with full clarity the break-in that had preceded Speed's abduction on Sunday morning. Agent's instinct soon took hold of Rex, telling him that he should check the situation out to make sure there were no intruders and that his young guests were all right. Hopping out of bed the 6'4" racer/special agent threw on his robe and grabbed his service revolver, then started for the door, not realizing he'd forgotten one critical piece of equipment...

..._His mask._

Moments later he popped his head out into the dimly-lit hallway, and glanced both ways. Not seeing anyone at first, Rex then stepped out and started towards the guest room where Spritle and Chim Chim were, revolver in hand and keeping a sharp eye out for anything suspicious or unusual. Then, the source of the unusual commotion hit him...Literally.

It was only Spritle in sleep-walking mode, that the man had collided with. "Whoaa!!" X exclaimed in surprise, after bumping into the sound-asleep youngster. The elder Racer brother certainly was thankful, his finger hadn't been on the trigger of his weapon at that moment! "I'd better put this, away. I don't need to have an accident with it. Not around Spritle!"

He spied a nearby side table in the hall. It had a drawer that could be locked, so Racer X quickly put the revolver into the drawer and locked it. Just in time, too, as the sleepwalking youngest Racer started to feel X with both hands, looking for the doorknob to the bathroom!

Spritle was definitely asleep on his feet. And, mumbling semi-coherently. _"Need to...Mom! I need to pee...!!"_

X tried to stifle a laugh. He wore an odd look of disbelief on his face. "Spritle. I'm _NOT_ the bathroom door, you know. The bathroom's thataway." Gently, he tried to lead the sleeping Spritle in the right direction.

Just as Rex managed to get him to the bathroom, Spritle awoke with a start. The combination of his brother's voice and being led by the arm apparently was enough to wake the lad out of his state; although it was more than likely that it was his first look at the un-Masked Racer, that actually brought the boy back to wakefulness. In any event, the sight of Rex's face sure made him wake up in a hurry. "Huhhh???" Spritle said, mouth agape. "Who are you?? You're not the Masked Racer---!!!"

Racer X blinked, caught off guard by his baby brother's reaction. "Spritle, what's gotten into you? Of course I'm the Masked Racer," he replied softly. He knelt down beside a trembling Spritle, and lay an affectionate hand on his shoulder. "It's okay, really."

Spritle looked very uneasy. Of course, never having seen Racer X without his mask before only served to add to the pudgy little boy's confusion and suspicion. "Then where's your mask?" he demanded finally, after finding his voice a minute or two later.

The man formerly known as Rex Racer skillfully managed to answer the question without divulging too much about himself. "I guess I must've left it on the nightstand next to my bed when I heard the noise. I thought there might be an intruder in the house, and I was concerned for your safety," Racer X replied, in a kindly tone of voice. "But as it turned out...it was _you, _who was making all the noise. I'm afraid, no one informed me that you have a tendency for sleepwalking."

Spritle's face turned beet-red in embarrassment. "I don't do it all the time. Just sometimes," he pouted.

As he spoke, Spritle looked up at the man kneeling beside him. Those midnight-blue eyes, the facial features... The brown hair. There was something very familiar about that face, the little boy mused to himself. And the way the man drove a race car...Speed was always saying, how closely he resembled their brother Rex when it came to handling a racecar! Was it possible...

_...Was it even possible to think, he was looking at his other older brother??_

X noticed that the child had grown extremely quiet, and was carefully studying his face for some odd reason. "Something wrong, Spritle?" he gently inquired.

Spritle eyed him with the kind of suspicion, that only a young child could muster up. If his suspicions were right... "Who are you, really?" he said in a low voice. "You aren't the Masked Racer. And don't lie to me, else I'll tell Pops and Speed on you!"

Finally, Rex had to give in. He had to hand it to his youngest brother---boy, nothing ever escaped Spritle's eye, it seemed. But although he now realized that his cover was blown, Speed and Spritle's elder brother still managed to maintain a perfectly straight face. "Now just who do you think, I am?" he intoned softly, smiling wistfully at a dour-faced Spritle.

Spritle stared hard back at him. "I'll tell you who I think you are. I think you're my other big brother. _**REX RACER!!!!!" **_he shouted excitedly.

Whoops!!! Looks like the cat's really outta the bag this time, gang.

Hey, Rex. Any idea how you're gonna handle _this_ twist on things??

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	11. Chapter 11

_Note: __I don't really know if Rex ever had such a birthmark, but I thought it'd make a good plot device to use as conclusive evidence that Spritle knew what he was talking about and for Rex to admit the truth!_

_Chapt. 11 X Has A Dilemma!_

For several long awkward minutes, a tense silence engulfed the upstairs hallway. Clearly Racer X's youngest brother had caught him off guard, literally hitting the proverbial nerve, and now the man struggled to formulate an answer. "Well?" Spritle demanded impatiently, standing with his hands on his hips and a cross expression on his chubby little face. "I'm waiting for an answer, Racer X. Or should I say..._**Rex**__??_"

Fighting his growing inner emotions, Racer X (rather, _Rex Racer)_ tried to maintain his composure in the face of this unexpected development. Beads of sweat glistened on his forehead, belying how he truly felt about the situation, as awkward as it were. He certainly hadn't expected to have to reveal his true identity this soon---and to the youngest Racer, at that.

Still, he managed for the time being to maintain a perfectly straight face about it. "Now hold on, Spritle! What makes you come to that conclusion?" X asked, resting his hand over his right knee. "Do you have any evidence to back that statement up?"

Spritle gave him a comically annoyed look. "Yeah! I got evidence," the lad huffed, determined more than ever to prove his host's true identity. "Exhibit A: the white roses in your house, which are exactly like the ones Mom likes! Which you happen to like, too, Rex, 'cause Speed said you always got Mom white roses on her birthday--!"

Racer X smiled, slightly amused. _Nice try, Spritle. But you're going to have to come up with something more creative than that, _he mused to himself. "But, Spritle. That's hardly conclusive evidence. A lot of people like white roses," he calmly pointed out. "Look at how many brides use them in their bridal bouquets."

Spritle wouldn't be dissuaded from his mission, it seemed. "Oh, yeah? OK, wiseguy. You care to explain then, how you look just like the picture of Rex in the Mach 1, that's hanging on the wall of our living room?" he retorted, his little eyes narrowing.

Well, Spritle, it seems two can play that game! As quickly as the little boy came up with an answer, the un-Masked Racer had a counter-reply of his own. "Well, Spritle, sometimes people happen to be similar in appearance, even if they're not related," X countered, continuing to play devil's advocate. "For example: wouldn't you say, Speed looks a little bit like Elvis?"

Spritle mulled over the question for a moment or two. He had to admit, Racer X had a good point. "Ummm...maybe just a little," he answered, after a brief pause. "I think it's the hairstyle."

"And is Speed related to Elvis?"

"Nooo..."

"Well, then, point made." X smiled, and playfully mussed the lad's hair. "Now, back to bed with you."

"OK." A crestfallen Spritle started to shuffle off back to the guest room where he and Chim Chim were staying.

Suddenly, he spun around and stared hard at his host. An idea had just popped into the little boy's mind---maybe there was still a way to trip Racer X up, after all, Spritle told himself. He recalled looking at the family photo album one day not so long ago with his mother and Trixie; Mom had been showing Trixie some of Speed's baby photos, and some of Rex's were in there as well. One photo of Rex in particular really stood out—he was probably not more than a year old, in a diaper and reaching for a toy that Pops was dangling in front of him to get him to look up for the camera. There was a clear view of a rather distinctive-looking birthmark on the upper left portion of the toddler's chest. If this was truly his other big brother... "Hey, wait a minute! You're trying to distract me! You want proof? I'll give you proof," Spritle snapped, stepping forward on the tips of his toes until he nearly reached the Masked Racer's waist. "I happen to know for a fact, my brother Rex had a birthmark on the upper left side of his chest in the shape of a four-leaf clover. Now take off your pajama top, and prove me wrong---if you can!!!"

Uh-ohh!!! Talk about throwing down the proverbial gauntlet! Rex Racer winced, caught totally off guard by the lad's excited demand. He never thought he'd see the day, he'd have to worry about that birthmark giving him away! He made a pained face, and sighed. "I was hoping, it wouldn't come to this. At least not this soon," he murmured quietly, as he slowly unbuttoned his top. "On the other hand...We _are_ in the safety of my own home where I can explain things without fear of being overheard..."

Finally, Rex came to a decision. The game was up, and he knew it. "All right, Spritle. You win," he admitted, with a slight chuckle. "I certainly couldn't fool you, could I?" He pulled open his pajama top, revealing the aforementioned birthmark.

Spritle's eyes lit up. He was thrilled, to say the least. "I knew it! I knew it! You really ARE Rex!!!" the youngster happily cried out, hugging the man tightly. "Speed knew it, too! But..." Spritle paused, and looked up at his brother with his wide, saucerlike brown eyes. "...But why couldn't you tell us before??"

His elder brother sadly shook his head. This was going to be the hard part: trying to explain his situation to an eight-year-old, without frightening him. "Believe me, Spritle, there were plenty of times I really wanted to tell you all the truth. Especially, Speed and Pops," Rex said softly, his eyes misting slightly at the thought. "But it just wasn't safe for me to do so. Even now, it still isn't very safe."

"Not safe?? What do you mean, not safe?" For a moment, Spritle looked puzzled. Then his eyes narrowed, and he looked askance at the older man standing in front of him. "Are you some kind of secret agent, or something?" the lad asked a few minutes later.

At that, X let out a light laugh. And he thought, Speed had an uncanny knack of reading between the lines, so to speak---and this little boy was as equally perceptive! _But then again, he's a Racer,_ Rex thought to himself, highly amused. "What?--What did you say, Spritle?"

Spritle looked a little annoyed. "I said..." he glowered at his big brother, "...Are you a secret agent, or something?"

An ever-familiar tight half-smile broke at the corners of the former Masked Racer's mouth, and he emitted a low, throaty chuckle. "You know, Spritle? To quote something that Speed said to me the other day---when you're on, you're on," Rex joked. He stood up, and patted his little brother on the back. "Now. Why don't we go downstairs into the kitchen, and I'll pour you a nice, tall glass of chocolate milk? Then...I'll spill the beans."

Spritle grinned broadly. He was truly excited by the idea of having another big brother around, especially one who just might very well be a secret agent. "Okay!" he agreed, eager to hear Rex's story. "This I gotta hear!"

The pair started downstairs. "By the way. I've got a question for you now, Spritle," Racer X said, as they headed down the staircase, towards the kitchen.

Spritle glanced up. "What's that, Rex?"

His older brother made a face. "How did you know, about my birthmark?"

A giggling Spritle shrugged. "Well, Mom was showing Trixie some of Speed's baby pictures one day, and your photos happened to be in that album, too," the little boy smugly replied. "And there it was, clear as day. At first Trixie thought it was a smudge on the picture but Mom said no, it was a birthmark shaped like a four-leaf clover. She said, one day it would bring you good luck."

"And where were you, during all this?"

"I was sitting on the couch, looking at the pictures with 'em. You should've seen Speed when he came in and saw we were looking at his baby pictures. Boy, did he blush!" Spritle chortled happily at the memory. "Especially when he saw it was the picture of Pops changing his diaper, and the diaper was only half on!"

Rex let out a soft chuckle. Family photos...now, that was something he hadn't looked at, in years. "Maybe I should take a look at that album sometime," he mused, a wistful expression on his face.

A still-partially suspicious Spritle eyed him carefully. "You're not gonna destroy the evidence. Are you?" he suddenly blurted out, with a certain innocent, childlike quality about him.

At that, Rex broke into a light laugh, and shook his head. He had to wonder---just where was his youngest brother getting all these ideas, anyways? "No, of course not! Besides, Spritle. I want to see for myself, just what embarrassed Speed so badly," he joked. Then in a moment of silent personal reflection, he reminded himself of just how long, he'd been away from home...

_...Too long, _in Rex's own opinion.

He proceeded to lead Spritle into the kitchen. "Come on, Spritle. Let's have that tall glass of chocolate milk I promised," Rex said, helping Spritle into a chair at the table. "I guess I have plenty of explaining to do."

"Uh, huh. You sure do!" Spritle declared, settling down in his chair and eagerly awaiting for his "new" big brother's story.

Over the promised glass of chocolate milk, Rex Racer spent the next hour or so carefully explaining his position to a very eager Spritle. It wasn't going to be easy, explaining to his eight-year-old brother why he couldn't tell anyone his real identity...And why it was just about impossible, for him to come home again. Still, he felt obliged to tell the youngster the truth, although it would require that Spritle not tell Speed or their parents about this incident..."Now, where should I begin?" Rex mused, after pouring the chocolate milk for both him and Spritle and putting the gallon jug back into the refrigerator.

A wide-awake Spritle innocently looked up. "At the beginning, usually works best," he spoke up, holding his glass with both hands.

His older brother sat next to him, a sly smile crossing his face. "All right, then. The beginning," Rex chortled, with a devious wink at an unsuspecting Spritle. "I was born on March 17th, nineteen forty-thre---"

At that, Spritle smacked his forehead with his hand. It hadn't taken him very long to realize, he was being tweaked! "Awww, not _that_ far back!!!" he groaned, in mock dismay. "Just from the time when you and Pops had that big argument at Sunny Downs, and you walked out on us!"

The sly smile on Rex Racer's face quickly turned into a wicked grin. "Well, why didn't you say so, Spritle? You said, start at the beginning," he answered, enjoying his baby brother's comic reaction.

Spritle threw his hands up into the air. "Rexxx!!!" he wailed. "I give up. You're just as impossible, as Speed!!!"

Rex/Racer X laughed, and playfully mussed the lad's hair. "I was just joking, Spritle. This time, I'll start from where you really wanted me to. Although..." He paused. The smile on his face soon disappeared, and his tone of voice changed to a more quiet, serious one. "...What I'm about to tell you, is no laughing matter. For your own safety---you must _never_ tell anyone about my identity. Got that?"

Spritle sensed a change in his elder brother's demeanor, and became uneasy. "Uh...my own safety?" he repeated slowly, realizing that something very serious and possibly dangerous was going on here.

X nodded. "Let me explain. Spritle, you were right when you asked upstairs if I were a secret agent," he said quietly, a dead serious expression on his face. "I am an agent---I work for an international agency called Interpol. Racing happens to be my cover, since I am a professional driver and many of the cases I've worked on involved the sport in some way or another. Many of those cases, proved to be extremely dangerous over time."

Spritle listened with rapt but somewhat bewildered attention. He wanted to bombard his big brother with all sorts of questions, but slowly the importance of what Rex was saying set in and he fought back his curiosity. "B-but...But, Rex. Why didya hafta go hide from us all these years?"

"I'm coming to that," Rex replied somberly. He heaved a heavy sigh, paused to take a sip of his chocolate milk, then continued on. "After I left Pops, I hooked up with a team that wasn't exactly on the up and up...I'm not sure, you may have been too young to have heard the names 'Uniron' and 'Black Jack Benelli'---but that bunch certainly made Jack Wiley's Alpha Team look like choirboys out on the track."

Spritle wrinkled up his nose, and shook his head. "Nope! Never heard of 'em! Maybe Pops and Speed have, though. What'd this Benelli guy do?" he asked.

X made a face. "Let me put it this way. He was one of many who put the 'dirty,' into 'dirty racing,'" Rex answered, grimacing at his own memories.

"Gee! Then what happened?" Despite his best intentions, Spritle just couldn't help himself. So much for battling his natural curiosity about things!

"Well, one thing led to another. I learned more than I cared to about my new employer, and eventually I wanted out. At that same time Inspector Detector was trying to bring Benelli and others like him to justice on racketeering and other sundry charges, so I took my inside knowledge to him and he in turn put me in touch with Interpol. Although to get out of this predicament fully, I..." Rex paused, and bit down hard on his lower lip. "...I had to fake my own death. A year later, I became the Masked Racer... Since then, the racing world thinks Rex Racer is dead, and it has to remain that way."

Srpitle sat there, momentarily stunned by the man's admission. "I still don't get it, Rex. Why do people have to think you're dead?" he wondered, scratching the back of his head for a moment.

His brother winced. _OK, Rex. This is going to be the tricky part, _X told himself. He certainly didn't want to terrify the boy, but since Spritle wanted to know the truth... "I wish it didn't have to be like this, either. But the fact is, I've made many enemies in a short span of time," Rex said softly. "If those enemies knew who I really was and who I was related to, they'd all be after the family in a heartbeat. And if just holding you all captive didn't work, these people wouldn't hesitate to kill you to get to me."

Even as Rex was finishing his story, Spritle began to react. His face suddenly paled, his eyes widened and he let out a frightened whimper. Rex noticed this, and swiftly proceeded to hug his littlebrother in a comforting manner. "I'm sorry, Spritle. I didn't mean to scare you," the eldest Racer brother whispered, trying to reassure the lad. "But these are the type of people I have to deal with---and I most certainly don't want you, Speed, Mom or Pops to have to worry about them yourselves!"

A trembling Spritle sniffled back a stray tear. "I-I'm not scared," he blurted out.

Rex smirked, trying to cheer his baby brother up. "Oh, no?" he retorted. "You could've fooled me!"

He hugged Spritle again. "Listen Spritle. Now you see why, we have to be very careful about where and how people address me. Promise me this: you won't tell anyone what happened in this house tonight. Not even Speed," Rex quietly told Spritle. "I could put all of you in unnecessary danger, if my true identity gets out."

Spritle gazed up at him, a sad look in his eyes. "OK, Rex. I get it now. B-but...will you ever tell Speed? And will you ever make up with Pops?" he asked, ever so hopeful for a real family reunion. "He doesn't wanna admit it, but I heard him say over and over how he really misses you---"

At that, Rex bowed his head and briefly said nothing. He himself had longed to make things right with his father for many years, but because of his current situation that scenario might never come. At length, Speed and Spritle's older brother spoke. "I'm sure he does miss me, Spritle, and I miss him, too. More than I care to admit," Rex replied, his eyes again beginning to mist slightly at the thought. "But I'll say this---yes, I will tell all of you the truth, but only when the time is right to do so. But for now, give me your word that you'll remain quiet about this, When I'm inside my own home, Rex is fine; but in public, I'm still Racer X or the Masked Racer. Understood?"

He gazed intently at Spritle, who nodded his head in agreement. The little boy looked like he was about to fall asleep at the kitchen table. "Gotchya!" he said, letting out an enormous yawn.

His brother chuckled. "Hmm! Looks like it's time for you, to get back to bed," Rex commented, rising from his chair. "Now finish up your drink, and let's get you settled back upstairs."

A yawning Spritle finished his milk, then rose from his chair. "Okay," he said, sleepily rubbing his eyes. "Will you tuck me in?"

Rex smiled kindly at his littlest brother. "Sure, Spritle. Come on, we've got a big day ahead of us tomorrow," he said, ushering the lad upstairs. "We don't want you to be half asleep at the candy store now, do we?"

At the mere mention of "candy," Spritle perked up almost immediately. "Candy??" he echoed. "No, no no! I can't be asleep at the candy store. 'Cause if I'm asleep, how will I be able to put anything in the basket??"

"Precisely, Spritle. That's why you're going back to bed. Right now!" A grinning Rex scooped up his baby brother, and carried him upstairs back to the guest bedroom.

Poor Spritle felt his face turn red in embarrassment. "Hey!!! I'm not Speed, and you're not Pops!" he playfully protested. "What do ya think, you're doing???"

Rex grunted, and pushed open the door to the guest room with his foot. "Putting you back to bed. And, besides. You asked me to tuck you in..."

He gently placed a frowning Spritle in the bed, then in a moment of sheer Racer impishness playfully pulled the covers over the lad's head. "Hey!!! Who turned out the lights on me??? I can't see a thing!" Spritle comically hollered, thrashing about under the blanket.

He heard his elder brother laugh softly as he exited the room. "Good night, Spritle."

Spritle growled, and tried to shake a fist under the blanket. "Hey, I wasn't done talking to you yet! Get back here, Rex Racer, and get this blanket off of me!!!" In his wild thrashing motions, Spritle accidently kicked a sleeping Chim Chim, startling the chimp awake.

_**Eeeeeek!!!! **_Chim Chim cried, then turned on Spritle and started to wrestle with him beneath the blanket.

"No, Chim Chim!" a frazzled Spritle protested. "I'm not the enemy. Blame Rex!!!"

Hmmm. Even when Spritle and Chim Chim aren't at home...they sure act like they are!

Later, as the night slipped into dawn, Rex Racer lay awake in bed, deep in thought. As comic as the sleepwalking episode with Spritle had been, he wondered whether it'd been such a good idea to reveal the truth to the little boy. _Of course, I can't fault Spritle for what happened tonight. I normally don't have overnight guests in my home. Nor can I fault Mom and Pops for not telling me about Spritle's penchant for sleepwalking---I'm guessing it doesn't happen often enough, to be considered a problem, _the racer/secret agent thought to himself. _I'm also certain, that Pops is onto me---ever since I rescued Speed from Wiley's mansion last Sunday, Pops has been giving me odd looks. Not his usual glaring ones, just the kind that says, 'Do I know you?' And judging from what Spritle said tonight, I think Speed suspects my identity as well. _

He shifted his position, looked up at the ceiling, and sighed. He knew that one day, he'd have to go home—if only to reunite briefly with the family; but he hadn't counted on a chance encounter with a sleepwalking little brother, to be the catalyst for such a move. Still, the more Rex reflected on the night's events, the more convinced he was that he'd done the right thing. _But then again, thank God I was in the safety of my own house when I told Spritle. I'm sure now, Spritle knows the seriousness of the situation I'm in and he'll take my warnings to heart...No, come to think of it, I think I handled the situation correctly. _

The bigger question on his mind now was, _how---and, when---should he tell the rest of the family?_

With that thought on his mind, Rex Racer/Racer X drifted back to sleep.

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	12. Chapter 12

_**Note: **__Now, for something a little more focused on Speed and Trixie...Also, a big "thank you" to roadrunner74 for inspiring my co-author Janee, to add a little bit more to the kitchen scene later in the chapter!_

_Chapt. 12 Pancake Panic And A Dinner Invitation_

_...So, Spritle and Chim Chim got to spend the night at Racer X's. At least Mom and __Pops didn't have to worry so much about those two now. To be honest, it sure put my __mind at ease...Everyone finally got a good night's sleep._

_Well, here goes nothing. Today's the first official day of my punishment---and Pops's _"_Cooking Boot Camp" is about to begin. I was kind of hoping he'd forget about the __whole idea but nooo, no such luck. Well, if they get food poisoning from the pancakes __I'm about to make, it's not my fault! (Just kidding, Mom!)_

_--_-Speed Racer, on his rather unusual "punishment"---

_"Speed!!! Are you up yet???"_

A still-very sleepy Speed Racer turned over beneath his comfortable bedcovers, ignoring the familiar feminine voice greeting his ears. It was barely six in the morning, and as far as the teen racer knew no one else in the house was up yet. _"Awww...Another half-hour, Mom! Please???" _he mumbled in his sleep, his face buried against his pillows. _"I don't have to be at the track, for another three hours...!!" _He pulled the blanket up over his head in an effort to get in a few extra moments of blissful sleep, totally unaware that his favorite girl was standing by his bed, frowning at him (both Trixie and Sparky had stayed the night at the Racers' home; she in Rex's old bedroom and he downstairs on the couch in the living room).

And speaking of Trixie...She stood at the end of her boyfriend's bed, hands on her hips and a wry look of comic disbelief on her face. Speed's mom had sent her back upstairs to rouse the young man from his sleep, for his rather sudden introduction to the joys of cooking (and later, housework). "Speed Racer!! Your mother says, it's time for you to get up. Or have you forgotten, today's the day you start your cooking lessons?" she teased.

You know the feeling you get, when you first wake up in the morning and someone's speaking to you but you don't fully comprehend what that person's saying? Or that you hear something other than what was actually said to you? Well, that was Speed to a 'T' that Friday morning. _"Booking?? But, Officer. I didn't do anything!" _he yawned sleepily. _"I have an alibi. I was kissing Trixie..." _Speed turned over, and fell back to sleep.

Now, that certainly didn't sit well with Trixie. Mrs. Racer had sent her to wake Speed up, and that was exactly what she was going to do. "All right, Speed Racer. You asked for it!" she muttered, stepping in front of the bed. With both hands she grabbed her boyfriend's bedcovers, then yanked them off of him.

The abrupt removal of his warm, comfy covers startled Speed into full wakefulness as the morning chill hit him full force. He began to shiver madly. "Yaaaah!!! Hey!!!! What's going on here?? Give me back my blankets...TRIX-IEEEEE!!!!" Speed yelled, wide-eyed.

He clumsily reached out to take back his bedcovers. A smiling Trixie, being a bit of a tease now, stepped back away from the bed, still holding onto the cozy handmade quilt, causing Speed to fall back onto his mattress with a comic groan. "Wake up, you bedhead! The kitchen awaits your presence," she laughed, her green eyes sparkling merrily.

Slowly, a bewildered Speed sat up and began to rub the sleep out of his eyes. It hadn't quite sunk in yet, that his punishment for his role in yesterday's prank war had already begun. "Huh??" he said, blinking his eyes several times. He then proceeded to run a hand through his thick, decidedly unruly black hair. "The kitchen awaits--??"

Trixie eyed him wryly. "Don't tell me, you've forgotten your punishment already!" she joked lightly. "Remember? You're learning how to make pancakes this morning?"

Speed blinked yet again. "Me?? Cook pancakes?" he echoed innocently. He was having trouble waking up, and it showed. "But, Trix. That's usually Mom's department--"

"Not today, Mr. Would-be Superstar Race Car Driver. According to your father, I'm supposed to help your mom teach you how to cook." On impulse Trixie grabbed hold of Speed's arm, and gently tugged him out of bed. Naturally, Speed tried to protest. "Now, up and at 'em. Or do I have to give you a great big smooch, to get your engine running?" Trixie retorted, over his feeble attempts at complaining.

At the mere mention of a kiss, a quirky grin broke across Speed's face. His sapphire blue eyes lit up with pleasure at the thought of having some alone time with Trixie, without having to deal with either his dad bellowing or his kid brother hollering about "going to Mush-land!" It wasn't very hard to see that as he got up and took the covers from his girl then dumped them in a heap on his bed, it really didn't take much to get _his_ engine running...

...Uh, oh. Read between the lines, folks. You know where this young man's mind is going---and it sure isn't the kitchen!

He proceeded to slip his arms around her waist. Trixie felt the embrace, and blushed slightly. Now wasn't exactly the time for Speed to get amorous! "Speed!!!" she exclaimed. "Come on, get serious! You've got to start cooking breakfast, before Pops gets up!"

Speed grinned impishly. "Well, you said you'd give me a great big smooch. So where's my good morning kiss?" he joked, gazing dreamily into her vivid green eyes.

Trixie just smiled, and shook her head. How could a girl ever resist Speed's boyish, innocent charm? "Right here," she answered softly, falling deeper into his arms then kissing him full on the lips. Speed reacted strongly, pulling her even tighter to him until the couple were locked in a rather passionate embrace.

Now, if Speed objected to _that_ wake-up call...then I'd say he's been sniffing too much of that used motor oil!!!

The morning embrace lasted a good seven to eight minutes, before a familiar rasping voice out in the hallway broke up the intimate moment. _"Dear? Is Speed up yet??"_

The two teens suddely broke apart, alarm etched on their faces. Uh-oh..._Pops was up! _"Speed! You'd better get in the shower. Quick!" Trixie gasped, her face pale.

Speed gulped nervously. "Yeah. Before he catches us, and adds on to my punishment!" he replied, looking anxiously towards his bedroom door. "I don't need to have you banned from the house. Not now!"

"Well, I don't think he'll do that. But I'll cover for you---just in case." Trixie stole another quick kiss, then prodded her boyfried forward. "Now, go!"

"I'm going! "I'm going!" Speed stumbled forward. "But, Trixie. You need to leave the room, too. I don't think Pops'll let you stay, if you saw me without my pj's. He just might get the wrong idea about us---"

Trixie paused, and thought about Speed's comment. "You're right," she said, drawing away from him. "I'll see you downstairs in the kitchen, Speed."

"Gotchya." Quickly, Speed gathered up his clothes and shoes, then hurried to grab a quick shower.

Trixie exited Speed's room a few minutes later, just in time to bump into his father. "Good morning, Mr. Racer!" Trixie sweetly greeted Pops.

Pops nodded back in greeting. "Morning!" he grunted. "Say, is Speed awake yet? I'm counting on those pancakes---"

Trixie laughed softly. "Oh, don't worry, sir. Mrs. Racer sent me to make sure Speed was up," she replied, her eyes twinkling. "He's in the shower, right now. He'll be down shortly, to start things."

Pops snorted. "Good! Because Sparky and I need to leave here around eight or so, so we can take the Mach 5 over to the track garage and work on her there," he said, heading downstairs. "You tell Speed, he'd better hurry it up."

She just smiled demurely. "I don't think I can tell him anything right now. He wouldn't be able to hear me over the running water," Trixie replied. "But don't worry, he said he wouldn't be long."

Speed's dad 'harrumphed' loudly. "Well, I'll be in the garage. Just call me when Speed's done cooking the pancakes," he said, going downstairs. Then in a comic aside he added, "And if they're edible or not!!"

Trixie giggled. "Not to worry! I'm sure that under the supervision of me and Mrs. Racer, you'll have an edible breakfast," she reassured him.

Pops scowled, nodded, then started off in the direction of the family garage. Along the way he managed to loudly wake up Sparky, who had spent the night on the living room sofa. Oddly enough, the Go Team's mechanic clutched a wrench in his hand while he slept. "Sparky! Wake up, it's time to get to work!" Pops suddenly barked.

The sound of his boss's very loud voice was enough to startle Sparky out of a sound sleep. Up went the hand holding the wrench, as Speed's best pal let out a comic yell. "_Aaaughhh!!!!"_

_Whack!!! _went the wrench. Right upside of Pops Racer's head.

"Owww!!!!" the burly racecar designer bellowed, clutching at his face where the wrench had clipped him. "Sparky!!!! Are you trying to kill me???" Pops was seeing red. Literally. "Since when did you start sleeping with your tools???"

Sparky's face blanched with horror, as he suddenly realized what he'd done. "Yikes!!! Oh, man!!!----Sorry, Pops, I didn't mean to. It was an accident!" he gulped comically.

Pops shot him a dirty look. "Never mind that! Just get up, we're starting work on the Mach 5 now," he huffed.

"Uh...OK." Sparky nervously sat up, wondering whether Pops would club him back in return. "But I thought, we were going to wait 'til we got to the track---"

"Speed's in the shower. I told Trixie to call us, when the pancakes were ready."

Up went Sparky's eyebrow. "Think they'll be edible?" he joked.

Pops merely grunted. "If that boy wants to race next weekend, they'd better," he groused.

For a moment, a puzzled expression crossed the younger man's face. "Gee! I thought you said, that's what would happen if Speed didn't get the spaghetti dinner right on Sunday," Sparky said, perplexed.

Speed's father uttered a devious chuckle. If there was one thing besides cars that Pops Racer was good at, it was keeping his two youngest sons in line. "Well, he doesn't have to know that, now. Does he?" Pops chortled, bemused by his own sneakiness.

He started for the garage. "Now, let's get to work, Sparky!"

Sparky sprang from the sofa. "Right!"

Some twenty minutes later, a breathless Speed raced into the kitchen, fully dressed although his hair was still damp from his shower. "OK, I'm here. I'm ready to take my lumps," he called out, seeing his mother and his girlfriend standing at the kitchen table.

Mrs. Racer and Trixie looked up. Both women smiled as Speed sauntered over. "Took you long enough, Speed. What'd you have to do, rescue the _Titanic? _" Trixie teased, her eyes alight with merriment.

Speed grimaced. "Oh, come on, Trix. I wasn't that long. Was I?" he shot back. "Did Pops say anything to you, while I was in the shower---?"

Trixie shook her head. "No. He just wanted you to hurry it up. I guess he and Sparky are really hungry," she answered, laying the wooden mixing spoon she was holding down on the table.

Speed groaned in dismay, although the groan was partially lost in the rumble emanating from the pit of his own stomach. He drew a deep breath. "I guess we'd better get started, then. What do you want me to do, Mom?"

Mrs. Racer led him over to the kitchen table, where a large mixing bowl, utensils, a flour canister, a carton of eggs, and other necessary items were set out. "I've laid out everything you'll need, here on the table. I have to go to the store real quick, so Trixie will show you how to make the batter," she said sweetly.

Speed blinked his eyes, a tad puzzled. "Go to the store?" he repeated. "How come, Mom?"

"We're out of orange juice and sausage. You know how your father gets, if he doesn't get enough sausage at breakfast." Mom chuckled lightly at the thought.

Speed cringed in mock terror. He knew only too well how cranky Pops could get, if he didn't have his full share of anything in the morning! "Uhh...Right!" he gulped, nervously running a hand through his still-wet hair. "By all means, Mom, go to the store and get more sausage. Trixie and I'll hold down the fort---and I'll try not to make too much of a mess."

His mother smiled, and gave him a quick hug. "Don't worry, Speed dear. Pancakes is one of the easiest meals to make for breakfast," she said reassuringly. "It's just a matter of adding the right amount of ingredients, then mixing well. "

Speed shrugged. "Whatever you say, Mom."

"Don't worry, Mrs. Racer. I'll make sure he gets it right," a cheerful Trixie spoke up. She playfully lay a hand on Speed's shoulder. Speed, in turn, shot her a quizzical look.

Mom Racer smiled warmly at the young couple. "Thank you, Trixie dear. I think my husband's counting on that," she replied. "I won't be too long. But I want you two, to get started now."

She picked up her purse from the table, then started out the kitchen. She stopped, however, when she was distracted by a sudden call from Trixie. "Oh! Mrs. Racer! You might want to get some more pancake syrup, too!"

Mom looked surprised. "Oh! Thank you for reminding me. I knew I was forgetting something." She took a small notepad out of her purse, and hastily wrote the word "syrup" on it.

Speed smirked, then broke into a light laugh. "What, Mom forgetting something?" he exclaimed, seizing a chance to needle his mom. "Stop the presses, and call the editor!"

His mother shot him a semi-stern look. "Very cute, Speed. Or have you forgotten that after breakfast, you're to help me with the morning housework?" Mom Racer retorted.

"Uh...no, ma'am." Speed blushed heavily, much to Trixie's amusement.

"Good! I'll be back, soon enough." Mrs. Racer gave Trixie a knowing wink. "Trixie? He's all yours," she said, on her way out of the kitchen.

A rather awkward silence filled the kitchen for some time after Mrs. Racer left, as Speed and Trixie stood alone in their thoughts. Finally, Trixie tied on an apron. "All right, Speed. Let's get started," she said, and handed Speed a measuring cup.

Speed glanced at the cup, then at his girlfriend, and wrinkled up his nose. "Just as long as I _don't_ have to wear one of Mom's pink aprons...Do I??" he deadpanned. He batted his eyes at Trixie, in a rather flirtatious manner.

Trixie noticed the eyes he was making at her---how could she NOT help but notice??? "Hmmm," she mused. "Don't give me that look, Mister Racer. As of right now,_ I'm _the teacher. _You're _the student!"

Still, that didn't do much to stop the young man's romantic urges. "Then teach me, o Goddess of the Kitchen!" Speed replied, a smug smirk on his face. His blue eyes sparkled with an impish delight. Heaven only knew, how he longed to just sweep Trixie off her feet and give her the biggest smooch, this side of Thunderhead..._Despite _what his dad said about, no making out in the kitchen!

Uh, huh. Teenage hormones, running amok.

Naturally, Trixie was no slouch when it came to interpreting her beau's intentions. She eyed Speed with a mixture of suspicion and amusement. "Hmph!!" she said, a wry look on her face. "If I didn't know you any better, Speed, I'd say you're trying to butter me up for something."

The expression on Speed's face was one of pure innocence. "Nooo. What makes you think that, Trixie?" he asked. He set the cup down on the table, then snuck up behind Trixie and started to clasp his hands around her waist. "I was...Well, I was merely complimenting my goddess, who'll teach me everything she knows about the art of making pancakes." He stole a quick kiss, which caused Trixie to giggle.

In response, she shot him a wry look. "Speed, really. Will you get off the romantic overtures, so I _CAN_ teach you??" Trixie retorted, feeling herself blush just a little. She picked up the measuring cup, and once more handed it to a grinning Speed. "Now, here's the measuring cup. Class is now in session!"

Okay, let's get things straight. Speed, finding time to make romance during a cooking lesson??---Isn't it amazing? It looks like there's more than just pancakes cooking in the Racer kitchen this morning!

Now, anyone who has ever made pancakes knows, it's a rather simple (though sometimes messy!) recipe and fairly easy to make. But try teaching a teen whose only real knowledge lies in the world of race cars, about domestic skills...Yah. You get the picture! By the time Speed had finished making the pancake batter (with Trixie guiding him step-by-step, of course), he looked like he'd just had an entire bag of flour explode all over him. "Uh...Trix?" Speed began, a goofy half-grin on his face as he realized just how much of the flour was more on him than in the bowl, "I don't think this looks right. Do you?"

Trixie looked up. She had just put the milk and eggs back into the refrigerator. Seeing her boyfriend standing at the table a complete mess and wearing this ridiculously goofy expression on his floured-up face, her first urge was to let out a scream of comic disbelief. Speed was floured, all right---from his head to the bottom of his blue shirt. "Speed!!! What happened??" Trixie gasped, struggling to stifle a laugh. "You're not supposed to _wear_ the flour--!!"

A rueful Speed ran a hand through his damp, sticky hair. Some of the flour had actually gotten into his hair and well, when flour meets wet surface...Can you say, _absolute sticky mess?? _"Umm...I added too much flour?" he suggested dryly.

Again, Trixie did her best to hold back a giggle. "I'll say!" she declared, reaching for a kitchen towel with the intent of helping her boyfriend clean himself off. "Maybe you'd better stick to racing, Speed."

A wry look enveloped Speed's face. "I think you're right," he admitted.

He looked to Trixie, and she to him. Suddenly both teens burst into gales of laughter, as the ridiculous reality of the situation hit home. "OK! So what'd I do wrong?" Speed gasped after a while, trying to control his laughter.

A laughing Trixie reached for the measuring cup. "Oh, it's no biggie. You just over-measured, that's all," she explained. "We'll just remove some of this excess flour, and everything'll be ok." She started to dip the cup into the yet-to-be-mixed batter.

An eager Speed moved to help her. "Here. Let me get that for you."

Unfortunately in his eagerness to assist Trixie, he accidently bumped the full cup. The flour flew upwards and out, settling over the two teens. "SPEEEED!!!! You KLUTZ!!!" Trixie wheezed, coughing from the flour cloud.

A wide-eyed Speed cringed when he saw what he'd done. "Oops!!! Sorry, Trixie!" he apologized, red-faced. "Here, let me help clean you off."

He picked up the kitchen towel that lay next to the mixing bowl, and hastily began to dust Trixie's shirt off. "Oh, but you're covered all over, too!" Trixie exclaimed, dismayed by her boyfriend's disheveled appearance. She started to brush the flour off his face and remove the sticky clumps out of his hair. Still, neither teenager realized just how awkward, the whole situation looked...

_...Especially, to someone like Pops Racer._

They were still trying to clean each other off when a familiar brusque voice resounded in the hallway. _"SPEED?? TRIXIE???----IS BREAKFAST READY YET???"_

Moments later, a very hungry Pops walked into the kitchen---and immediately wished he hadn't. His face started to turn a slow red, as he caught the teens in an otherwise innocent moment. Speed had unwittingly put himself in a rather awkward position---his hand rested atop Trixie's chest as he brushed the flour off her shirt, and she was giggling. "What the...," Pops began, caught off guard.

His eyes narrowed, and he fumed. "SPEE—EED??!!!"

Both Speed and Trixie looked up. Their jaws dropped in shock when they saw Speed's dad standing in the doorway, scowling. "Uh...POPS!!!!" Speed cried out, panic-stricken. "Pops!!! I--I can explain!!"

"You had better!" his father growled irritably. "I thought your instructions were, to make breakfast. Not to make out with your teacher!"

Poor Speed! Blushing, he lowered his head. Boy, how he wished he were somewhere else right now!

Somewhere like..._the trunk of the Mach 5, perhaps???_

Fortunately, he had an ally. Sensing the tension between father and son, Trixie stepped in, in an effort to diffuse the otherwise embarrassing situation. "It's not what you think, Mr. Racer. Speed had a small accident with the flour, and we were trying to clean it up before we actually started to cook," she said soothingly. Trixie paused, then added cheerfully, "Besides, breakfast won't totally be ready yet. Mrs. Racer went to get orange juice and sausage."

"Yeah, Pops. There's not enough to go around for everyone," Speed hastily echoed, eager to redeem himself. "And we all know how much you like your sausage when Mom makes pancakes---"

At length, Pops calmed down, as usual won over by the teens' argument. "Umm, true..."

He glanced at the kitchen clock. It read, seven-oh five. "Well, then. How much longer?" Pops asked, still eyeing Speed with a disapproving look.

Speed shrugged. "Mom should be back at any moment now, Pops. Just let us get the cakes on the griddle, then all that'll be left to cook is the sausage," he replied, tossing aside the towel he was using to clean both himself and Trixie off. He still felt a bit jittery in his dad's presence, as he picked up the bowl of batter and walked over to the stove..

His father nodded. "All right, then. Back to your lesson. But no more lovers' shenanigans in here, else there'll be no more racing!" Pops semi-jokingly threatened.

Hearing his dad's somewhat playful threat, Speed suddenly paled. Funny, Pops hadn't said anything about using today's lesson as a prerequisite to race...! "But, Pops! You said that about Sunday's dinner," the young racer protested, his eyes wide in dismay. "You didn't say anything about today...!!"

He didn't hear the low chuckle coming from the senior Racer. Nor did he see the devious gleam in Pops's eye. "Hm? I didn't say, what?" the ex-wrestler said innocently, with a wink at Trixie.

Suddenly, he burst into a hearty laugh. "Oh, relax, son, I was just razzing you," Pops said, clapping a firm hand on a now-scowling Speed's shoulder. "Of course today doesn't count!. But Sparky and I are getting hungry, and I'm sure you are too."

Speed groaned loudly, and smacked his forehead with his hand. How did he ever fall for that one---!!! "Ullhhh!!!! Pops!!!! Come on, I'm working on it!!!" Laughing, Pops disappeared back into the other room, leaving his highly-embarrassed son to finish making breakfast.

Eventually, the lesson moved from making the batter (messes included), to actually cooking the pancakes. "Hey, Trixie. Watch this!" Speed called out, as he prepared to flip a pancake without the use of a spatula.

Trixie looked a little unsure about her boyfriend's method of flipping. "Umm...I'm not so sure that's such a good idea, Speed," she began uneasily, a doubtful expression on her face.

Speed, of course, was full of his natural, youthful confidence. "Aw, c'mon, Trix! Mom does it all the time. And they always come out perfect," he coaxed, a big grin on his face.

He attempted to flip the pancake into the air and back into the frying pan. Unfortunately he misjudged the trajectory---the pancake flew out of the pan, landed on the side of the pan, then fell onto the hot burner. Smoke began to rise from the burning food, followed by the appearance of flames. "Trixie!!" Speed suddenly yelled, in a comic panic. "The pancake's on fire!!! What'll I do??"

Trixie let out a small scream, as the young racing star frantically began to beat at the flames with the skillet. "Well, hitting it with the pan won't help!" she cried out, and grabbed the handle from Speed. "Besides. This is your mother's good frying pan!"

Naturally, all the frantic yelling and screaming in the kitchen was enough this time to bring both Pops and Sparky running in from the garage. They soon both got a good whiff of the smoke, and both men pushed towards the kitchen. "What the---??" Pops exclaimed, bursting into the kitchen. Sparky followed close behind. "What's going on in here? Do I smell smoke---!"

He and Sparky both gaped, as a white-faced Speed and an alarmed Trixie desperately tried to put out the stove fire. "Ho-ly smokes!!! What happened here???" Pops shouted, eyes wide open in shocked disbelief. "Speed!!!"

"I'm sorry, Pops!" Speed wheezed, fanning some smoke away from him and Trixie. "I wasn't trying to burn the house down...!!"

A grimacing Pops Racer rapidly fanned the smoke away with his hand. "Oh, never mind. You can tell me what happened, later.---SPARKY!!!!" the burly car designer bellowed, over the chaos that was the kitchen, "GET THE FIRE EXTINGUISHER FROM THE GARAGE!!! NOW!!!!"

Sparky gulped, then turned to head back to the garage. "Yessir!"

Ah, forget about "burning the Roadhouse down." How about..."burn the Racer kitchen down??"

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All things considering, breakfast at the Racer house that morning turned out much better than Speed had expected. To his surprise, making pancakes and sausage wasn't all that bad, once he got the hang of it. Sure, he burned one or two at first (and nearly took out the kitchen in the process!), but after that it was, as Speed put it, like "memorizing the gearshift patterns on the Mach 5."

In non-racing terms...A piece of cake. Especially after the fire was put out, the frying pan washed and Speed started over again—this time, with help from both his mom and Trixie.

Even better was his reward. A big kiss of approval from Trixie, and high praise from his father.

The meal was halfway through when Speed's dad complimented him on his maiden attempt at cooking. "Son, I have to give you credit. For a first-timer, these pancakes are pretty darn good," Pops said, leaning back in his chair after finishing a second helping. He looked relaxed---jovial, even—in contrast to his demeanor of yesterday. "And, oh, nice job on the sausage, too."

"Gee, thanks, Pops." For the umpteenth time that morning (or so it seemed!), a nice deep blush slowly spread across Speed's cheeks. Beside him sat Trixie, sipping leisurely at her glass of orange juice. Thankfully she and Speed at least looked a little more presentable at the table, as most of the flour had been easily brushed out of the teens' clothes. To say that Speed's first cooking lesson had been somewhat of an adventure...Well, that was an understatement. "Despite the mess I made in the kitchen this morning?"

Pops shot him a wry look. "Well, I certainly hope you'll clean up the kitchen," he joked, chuckling softly.

Mom Racer just smiled. "Oh, don't worry about that, Dragon dear. That'll be his first assignment of the morning. Breakfast dishes, and general kitchen clean up. Then it's vacuuming and the laundry," she calmly announced, gazing intently at her cringing teenage son.

A flustered Speed squeezed his eyes shut, and grimaced. He scrunched down into his chair, highly embarrassed. This was definitely not starting out, to be his day—no car, no drive-in movie date...Just a mountain of housework to be done. "Yes-ss, Mom," the young racer groaned.

He turned to Trixie, a sheepish grin on his face. "Ahh...I'm really sorry about tonight, Trixie. As usual, I kinda engaged mouth before brain, and got myself stuck at home," Speed started to apologize. "I really wanted to go see that new Elvis film at the drive-in, too.---I guess the drive-in'll have to wait 'til next weekend. Or the week after that, if I'm racing---"

A smiling Trixie shook her head. That made how many times, Speed had tried to apologize to her for last night's dinnertime fiasco?? "It's ok, Speed. Honest," she answered softly, laying a hand on his arm. "Besides, I have an idea. While you're helping your mother with chores, I'll go back to my place and grab the soundtrack album. Then I'll come back, and later maybe we can listen to Elvis together!"

Speed's face immediately lit up. "Really? That's a groovy idea, Trixie!" he agreed, his spirits lifted considerably. "Say, and when did you get the soundtrack to _Clambake, _anyways?"

She laughed lightly. "It came out in the record shop last week, actually. I bought it this past Thursday."

Speed grinned impishly. Elvis, and Trixie? _Well, I suppose that maybe, it won't be such a bad day after all, _the young man told himself. _It could've been a lot worse for me, come to think of it—Pops could've not let Trixie be here at all during my punishment!!_

He looked nervously to his parents. "That um, that's ok with you and Mom. Isn't it, Pops?" Speed politely inquired.

His parents nodded their consent. "Yes. But only after your assigned chores are done," Pops replied, gazing at his son. "Then, you can enjoy Trixie's company!"

At that, Speed just let his head drop down to his chest, embarrassed. Why did he get the distinct feeling, his father was enjoying his predicament a little _too _much??

Before Pops and Sparky left for the track garage around eight AM, Mrs. Racer stopped them at the door. "Oh, Dragon. If you should by chance see Racer X today, don't forget to invite him for dinner this evening," she reminded her husband. "Six o'clock, and I'm making a pot roast. With the usual trimmings and, a nice homemade apple pie for dessert."

Pops nodded, as he adjusted his cap. "Sounds good, dear. I take it, you'll be having Speed help you with the prep?" he asked.

His wife smiled. "Of course he will. The prep, AND the cooking," Mom said. "You wanted him to get as much experience as he could in the kitchen, so...why stop at spaghetti?"

Pops let out a short laugh. "Hah! Good point! Just don't let him burn the pot roast!" he agreed jovially. "But just in case I _don't_ see the Masked Racer—how will we contact him?"

"Oh, I think that's covered.--Remember, he's taking Spritle and Chim Chim to the candy store, lunch, then straight home. I can always invite him, then."

Her husband nodded. "Of course."

"Oh, and one more thing, Dragon."

"Eh?"

Mrs. Racer laughed softly. "On your way home...could you stop at the candy store, and pick up some sweets for the kids? I think Speed's still feeling badly about not being able to take Trixie out to the movies tonight..."

Pops made a face. "Well, he's still under Dr. Wilson's care, so he's still not allowed out of the house. But..." He sighed, and made yet another face. "...If that's what you want, dear, then I'll stop at the store."

"I'm sure he'll appreciate it. Especially if you bring home some bull's-eyes." Mom Racer leaned over, and lightly kissed her husband on the cheek. "Have a good day, Dragon." Pops grunted, nodded, then walked out, Sparky following right behind him.

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The morning passed rather quickly. About eleven-thirty, a familiar black and yellow racecar bearing the number 9 on its hood and sides pulled to a stop out in front of the local candy shop. Out jumped Spritle Racer and Chim Chim, followed by the Masked Racer. "OK, Spritle. Here we are," Racer X jovially announced. "Your favorite candy store." He closed his door, and caught up to his little guests just as they were about to enter the store.

Quickly, Spritle found himself in candy heaven. "Oh, boy! Come on, Chim Chim. Candy!!" he squealed happily, racing down the first aisle. "Racer X! This way!"

Rex/Racer X laughed, a broad smile creasing the corners of his mouth. "Whoa, slow down, Spritle! I know you're enthusiastic about this, but let me get a basket first!" Still chuckling, he picked up a shopping basket from near the front of the store then strode after the little boy and his pet chimp.

Spritle was getting a little impatient. "Well, hurry up! We're over here. By the chocolate bars!" he called out.

Again, his big brother just shook his head, and chuckled. "Now, Spritle. Is that any way for you, to talk back to your benefactor?" Rex jokingly teased.

A slightly crestfallen Spritle looked down at the floor. "Sorry."

X patted his shoulder, with great affection. "Oh, relax. I was just pulling your leg," he said kindly. "I need to pick up some sweets, myself."

At that, Spritle immediately perked up. It was amazing, how that youngster could bounce right back from uneasy moments! "Well, I'd rather get candy, than have my leg be pulled," he declared eagerly.

Again, the Masked Racer emitted a hearty laugh. "Ha, Ha! Well, then, let's go replace your candy, Spritle," X said, starting forward.

Spritle just grinned. "Okay!"

They shopped the various aisles, in essence picking out everything that Spritle had chosen the day he'd fleeced Mr. Fixer for thirty dollars' worth of candy. "Racer X, I need a little help," Spritle suddenly called out, panting a little from trying to reach a shelf that was a few feet taller than he was. "I can't quite reach the bull's-eyes."

Before his older companion could respond, a familiar gruff-sounding voice suddenly broke in. "Allow me, Spritle."

Spritle and the Masked Racer both spun around. There was Pops, a pleased look on his face. "Pops!!" Spritle cried out, and ran over to hug his father. Behind the youngster, Chim Chim chattered noisily. "What are you doing here??"

Pops Racer chuckled, smiling broadly. So far, he was in a rather jovial frame of mind. "Oh, your mom asked me to stop in, and pick up some bull's-eyes for Speed," the ex-wrestler-turned-car designer replied.

For a moment, Spritle's face fell. He had his little heart set on replacing his brother's candy---the candy that Chim Chim had snatched, back in Speed's hospital room last week. "But...I wanted to get them for Speed," the little boy pouted.

His father chuckled yet again. "Oh, that's all right. You can still get Speed what you'd planned," Pops answered. He gave Spritle a mini-bear hug, causing the lad to giggle. "I was just going to pick up a couple of extra bags." he then reached up to the shelf, and began to pull bags of candy down. "Now. How many bags did you say you needed, Spritle?"

"Two. One for Speed, and one for Chim Chim." Spritle grinned, as his dad handed him the requested bags. "Thanks, Pops."

"No problem, son." Pops beamed happily at his youngest son.

He turned to Racer X then. "Oh! By the way, X, I'm glad I bumped into you," Pops said, as he and the Masked Racer watched Spritle and Chim Chim romp down the aisle, "I need to ask you a favor."

Somewhere beneath that mask, an eyebrow shot up. "A favor? What's that, Pops?"

Speed and Spritle's dad casually ran a hand through his jet-black hair. "Well, it's really a favor from my wife. She wishes to extend a dinner invitation to you, for this evening," he replied smoothly. "We never did get a chance to properly thank you, for looking after our sons this past Sunday. Not just for pulling Speed out of that horrible tangle he'd gotten himself into, but for being there and helping Spritle out as well."

Rex Racer nodded thoughtfully, recalling quite vividly the events surrounding last Sunday's Trans-Country Race. Where his brothers were concerned, he'd always be there for them, one way or another. "Why, thank you. It really wasn't any problem," he answered quietly. "I couldn't let Spritle wander aimlessly around the garage area by himself. And I certainly wasn't about to let Speed go up in smoke, either."

"Well, that's why, we insist on having you as a guest tonight. It's the least we can do, to show our gratitude." Pops paused, then playfully wagged a finger at X. "Six o'clock, and Mrs. Racer's making a pot roast. With all the fixings."

That got Spritle all excited. If there was one meal his mom made that was his favorite, it was her pot roast. "Mom's making pot roast?? Oh, boy!" he exclaimed, jumping up and down in glee.

Chim Chim, too, was clearly excited as well. _Eeek eeek eeeeek!!!!! _he hooted softly.

Spritle turned to Rex, and tugged on his gloved hand. "Please say you'll come, Racer X," he begged, with a soulful look in his wide brown eyes.

Rex/RacerX looked at him, and smiled warmly. Even though he'd been away from home for far too long, he couldn't resist an opportunity to step back into the house that for some time had been a source of his inner turmoil. "Of course I will, Spritle," Rex said softly.

He turned to the senior Racer. "Pops, I'd be honored and delighted to come. Tell Mrs. Racer, I accept her kind offer," X said, proffering his hand to Pops.

Pops nodded, and accepted his handshake. "Good! Then we'll see you around six tonight," he replied.

He hurried towards the checkout line. "Excuse me, I gotta get back to the garage. I'm going to pick up lunch for me and Sparky, then it's back to work," Pops excused himself. "Speed discovered an oil leak on the Mach 5 last night, before dinner--"

Again, X merely nodded. "I'm not surprised. Considering the double hit Speed took from the rest of the Alpha Team during the Trans-Country Race, I'm sure the Mach took a good beating." The Masked Racer didn't hear Spritle growl under his breath, _"Dirty cheaters!"_

After Pops had left and they were on their way out back to the Shooting Star (X carried three bagsful of candy!), an excited Spritle ran over to the race car and hopped in. "See, Racer X? I told ya, Mom was gonna invite ya over for dinner," he said, watching as his older brother slid in behind the wheel after loading the candy into the trunk. The lad's excited look had given way to one of smug glee.

X smiled back at him. Beneath that mask, however, Rex Racer's brain was at work; once Pops had left the premises, Rex had quickly realized that this was the opportunity, he'd been waiting for. The chance to help Speed and Trixie, slip out to the drive-in! "Yes. But you do know what this also means. Don't you, Spritle?" Rex said, with a cunning smile. "Think about it. What you and I planned to do, last night? About Speed and Trixie...?"

For a brief second, Spritle looked puzzled. Then, it dawned on him: Racer X's plan to whisk Speed and his girlfriend to the movies---and, as Spritle would say, "Mush-land"! The youngest Racer boy's eyes brimmed with eager excitement, the more he thought about assisting his other big brother with his cunning plan. "Oh, yeah! I sure do," he declared. "It's time for..._Operation 'Clambake'!!!"_

____________________________________________________________________


	13. Chapter 13

_**Note: **_More "_Speedus domesticus" _follies---and X finally sets his plan for the human lovebirds into action!

_Chapt. 13 'Operation Clambake' Begins!_

_**We're running with the shadows of the night**_

_**So baby take my hand, it'll be all right.**_

_**Surrender all your dreams to me tonight**_

_**They'll come true in the end.**_

---Pat Benatar, "Shadows of the Night"---

Speed soon discovered the truth about the old adage, "A woman's work is never done"---and just as quickly wished he hadn't. Both his mom and Trixie were certainly making sure he'd keep his end of the bargain and not get let off the hook for anything, it seemed.

The breakfast dishes he didn't mind doing, since that was a chore assigned to both him and Spritle on a daily basis anyhow. But cleaning up the near-disaster of the kitchen, with the women supervising him...now, that was another story unto itself. Then there was the vacuuming of the entire house, the dusting (the trophy case especially needed a good one)...Cleaning the bathroom with all its fixtures and of course, the usual weekly cleaning of his bedroom after everything else was done. _Gee! What fun! _Speed groaned inwardly to himself as he finished emptying out the trash can next to his bed. _I sure hope Pops appreciates this...!_

The real kicker to Speed's morning, however, came when the domestically-challenged teen racer tried to do the family's laundry. Oh, Speed loaded the washer just fine, buuut...It seemed, he miscalculated a little on the amount of laundry detergent needed. By the time everything was said and done, Speed found himself standing ankle-deep in a flood of soap suds and wishing he'd paid more attention to Dr. Wilson's orders about staying in bed! "_MOM-MMM!!!!! THE WASHER"S OVERFLOWING, I THINK I PUT IN A LITTLE TOO MUCH DETERGENT---!!!!!"_

_Ya think, Speed???_

Upstairs in the kitchen, Mrs. Racer was busily making lunch for herself, Speed and Trixie (Trixie had just come back from her apartment, having retrieved a certain Elvis album for when Speed could finally get a break from housework). She had just finished making a sandwich for her son when all hell suddenly broke loose downstairs in the basement. _"MOM!!!! I NEED YOUR HELP!!! I'M BEING ATTACKED BY THE WASHING MACHINE---!!!!"_

Mrs. Racer looked up, eyebrow raised in puzzlement. "Hmm?"

Speed's frantic yelling continued. At first his mother couldn't really hear him, so laying aside the knife in her hand she went to the slightly-opened door that led down to the basement and started down the stairs. "What's the matter, Speed dear?" Mom pleasantly called out.

"I told ya, Mom. The washer's gone crazy! There's soap everywhere!"

"Whaat??!!" Alarmed, Mom Racer hurried down the steps, only to be met at the bottom by a swiftly-rising tide of soap suds. In the middle of the mess stood a comically-panicked Speed, the suds now past his ankles. He leaned on the washer, trying to hold down the lid with his body as soapy water spewed everywhere. His eyes squinted close, his face screwed up into a ridiculous grimace. "My word!!!" Mrs. Racer exclaimed, horrified. "Speed Racer, how much soap did you use???"

A red-faced Speed opened his eyes, and winced. "Um...three scoops?" he answered timidly.

Mrs. Racer eyed her middle son in disbelief. "Three---!!! You're only supposed to use one scoop!" she said, hurrying to stop the washer before the tide got any higher.

Poor Speed! He was beginning to think, he was a totally inept doofus when it came to housework...! "B-but...I thought you said, you could add extra if something was really dirty," he sputtered, completely embarrassed.

"Well, yes. An extra quarter scoop, maybe. But not two whole scoops!" Mom wryly surveyed the swirling, sudsy mess enveloping her and Speed. "What were you trying to wash, anyways?"

Speed blushed. "Ahh...My mess from Sunday, and Pops' workclothes?"

His mother smiled, and shook her head. "That certainly would explain things! You certainly_ were_ a mess," she admitted, chuckling at the thought. "But two extra scoops of detergent, wasn't necessary."

Speed sighed, a sheepish expression on his face. "Well. Guess that means, I'm banned from doing the laundry--"

His mother laughed, and playfully mussed his hair. "No, Speed. That just means you need another lesson," Mom replied. "You boys have been dependent on me for far too long---all of you. Including, your father."

"So...when do I get this second lesson?" Speed inquired.

"Right after you grab that mop and bucket in the corner over there, and start mopping this floor!" Mrs. Racer paused, then teasingly winked at Speed, "But don't worry, I won't tell your father about this latest disaster."

Speed breathed a huge sigh of relief. "Thanks, Mom."

He eyed the swirling mess around him with a strange grimace, then nervously ran a hand through his hair. "You know? The way this day's been going so far...Maybe I should've listened to Doc Wilson, and just stayed in bed!" Speed groaned good-naturedly.

Mrs. Racer laughed, and winked at her very sheepish-looking middle son. "So you finally see the doctor's point of view, do you?" she joked. "Well, Speed, you know what they say. Hindsight's always 20/20!"

At that, Speed groaned. "Yeah. In this case...Washing machine 1, Speed Racer nothing but a major headache, and a soapy pair of pants!!"

Live and learn. Eh, Speed??

Around twelve-thirty or so, an exhausted Speed finally found time to escape from the madness that was housework. "Ulhhh!!! Some morning this has been!" the teenager moaned, wearily flopping his aching body down onto the living room sofa. Trixie was standing next to the family's phonograph, putting on a record album. "Oh, you wonderful sofa...Ahhh!!!"

Trixie turned, and saw her boyfriend sprawled crazily out on the sofa. "And what about me, Speed?" she joked. "Don't I matter?"

Speed opened one eye. He broke into a tired grin when he realized, his girl was back from her errand. "Of course you do, Trix, you're a beautiful sight. I hadn't realized, you'd left and come back," he breathed, momentarily forgetting that she'd told him at breakfast, where she was going.

She laughed, as strains of the soundtrack to Elvis' _Clambake_ began to echo through the house. "Silly, I told you that at the table this morning! I figured that since we can't go to the drive-in tonight, I'd go home and bring back the soundtrack album. I don't think your parents would object to that."

Speed just grinned. "Aw, yeah. I'm so exhausted, I guess I forgot."

A giggling Trixie sat down next to him. "Um, hmm. Chore overload?" she teased, putting an arm around his shoulders.

He nodded, a rueful expression on his face. "Overload! More like, forced labor," Speed answered, wincing at the thought. "First, there was the fire in the kitchen earlier this morning. Now, the washer tried to drown me..." He made a face as he idly pulled at his still-damp shirt.

Trixie gave him a wry look. Yes, her boyfriend had made quite a mess of himself today, all right. "Let me guess. That's why the bottoms of your pants legs are all soaked. And there's a big wet spot in the middle of your shirt," she said dryly.

Speed felt his face redden. "Yeah. I was trying to keep the lid on all that soap. Literally!" He paused, then with an almost puppylike look in his eyes he said in a half-joking manner, "Trixie? I think the washer hates me." Trixie laughed, and snuggled cozily next to Speed, enjoying a rare precious moment with him.

A few minutes later, Speed looked towards the kitchen. "Mom? Can I take a break now? Before some other household appliance tries to kill me??" he pleaded comically to his mother.

Mrs. Racer answered him from the kitchen. "Are the clothes dried and folded?" she wanted to know.

"Yes, ma'am. The clothes basket's right where you usually leave it, before taking it upstairs. Right at the foot of the stairs." Speed let out a weary sigh of relief.

"That's fine, Speed, thank you. I'll bring lunch out to you two, in a few minutes." There was a pause, then Mom added, "By the way, I've invited Racer X to join us for dinner this evening."

At that, Speed forgot all about his disastrous morning. His eyes lit up with excitement. "You've invited Racer X? Cool!" he said.

"Well, dear, we really didn't get a chance to properly thank him, for what he did for you and Spritle last Sunday. Your father and I thought, it'd be a nice gesture to invite him to dinner."

Naturally, Speed was all for it. "That's a great idea, Mom!" the young racer said, his voice quivering with eager anticipation. It was funny, but ever since last week's Trans-Country Race it seemed that he was looking at the Masked Racer more like a brother, than a competitor...Racer X always seemed to know when to be around, when Speed needed help the most. "What's on the menu?"

His mom entered the living room then, chuckling. She carried a food tray which consisted of a plate of freshly-made egg salad sandwiches, chips, two sodas, and homemade chocolate chip cookies, and set it down on the coffee table in front of the two teens. "You...are going to help me make a pot roast," Mom Racer sweetly announced, playfully wagging a finger at her son.

A look of alarm suddenly crossed Speed's face. "B-but...," he started to stammer, bug-eyed at the thought, "I thought I didn't have to do any more cooking. At least, not until Sunday night's spaghetti dinner!"

"Consider this, extra credit. And your personal way, of thanking the Masked Racer yourself." His mother reached over, and affectionately brushed away that ever-dangling lock of black hair off Speed's forehead. "You can do it, Speed dear. And, besides. It'll be good for you, to build up your cooking repetoire."

Still, Speed had his doubts. He wrinkled up his nose, and squinted his eyes. "Won't be much of a 'thank-you,' if the roast gets burnt..."

"Well, that's why I'm also going to ask Trixie for her help. If you don't mind, dear," Mom said, smiling at the couple on the couch.

Trixie's green eyes twinkled merrily. "No, of course I don't mind!" she laughed. "After all. Somebody's got to keep an eye on Speed, to make sure he doesn't set the kitchen on fire again!"

Both women laughed softly at the memory of the morning's near-disaster. Poor Speed, on the other hand, groaned loudly in dismay at his girlfriend's wry comment. Heaven only knew, if he'd ever live this day down. He began to wonder if any of the other drivers in Formula One racing had to endure the same grief about their domestic skills—or lack thereof---from _their _girlfriends or wives!

At length, while Speed and Trixie were enjoying their lunch, Mrs. Racer prepared to go out. "Oh, by the way. I'm going to the store to get some more potatoes for tonight's dinner," she called out, on her way out the door. "And I thought, a nice apple pie _a la mode_ would do nicely for dessert. So Speed, you're officially on free time until it's time to start the roast."

Speed didn't hear her at first. He and Trixie were in the middle of a long, romantic smooch, something which didn't go unnoticed by his mother. "_A-hem!!!! Excuse me---!!!" _

Startled, the two teens looked up. Seeing Mom Racer standing by the door, her hands on her hips and feigning a look of disapproval, Speed and Trixie quickly broke apart. They were both as red-faced, as a...well, valentine's heart! "Uh—what was that, Mom? I didn't hear you," a sheepish-looking Speed confessed.

Mrs. Racer broke into a light laugh. It always was a long-standing joke in the Racer home, about Speed's fondness for his longtime girlfriend. And although Speed and Trixie had made an agreement of their own when they first began dating not to get intimately involved before marriage, Pops still would rather not have them acting so lovey-dovey under his roof...especially in front of Spritle! "Well, that's because you and Trixie were too busy giving each other mouth-to-mouth," Mom teased the couple. "Even though it doesn't look like either one of you is about to pass out." She gave her squirming son a playful wink.

Both Speed and Trixie groaned loudly. "Aww, Mom! C'mon, how about a little privacy...??" Speed deadpanned, still snuggled up to Trixie.

His mom shot him a wry look. "You know, Speed. You're lucky, your father isn't here to see this. You know how he feels about such behavior in the house. Especially around Spritle--"

"But Spritle's NOT here--"

"He will be. Racer X should be by at any time now, with your brother and Chim Chim." Mom started to open the front door.

Speed was persistent in his protests. "But didn't you and Pops do this sorta stuff, when you guys were dating?" he asked, his natural curiosity getting the best of him—as usual.

"Well, certainly not in the middle of my parents' living room!" Mom exclaimed, shooting Speed a bemused look. "The drive-in, yes. But not in the living room!" She winked at a blushing Speed. Next to him, Trixie giggled lightly. "Now, as I was saying. I'm going to the market, to get a few extra things for dinner. I was thinking of making an apple pie ---"

Immediately, Speed's blue eyes lit up. There was no doubt about that look—he was a sucker for his mother's baking, period. "Apple pie?? Can you teach me how to make one, Mom? Pleease??" he begged, shifting his position on the sofa.

His mom smiled. "Now, Speed. You know that's a closely-guarded family secret..."

"Yeah, but how am I supposed to learn anything if you won't teach me?" Speed teasingly winked at his mom. "Besides. I'm family---"

Mom Racer smiled, and shook her head. "We'll see, Speed. We'll see," she said, walking out the door and leaving the teens to their rather...'Romantic' devices.

Just as she got to the family car, her attention was quickly diverted by the roar of a powerful racing engine. A few minutes later a familiar black and yellow racecar pulled into the driveway, and stopped next to the Racer family vehicle. Out jumped Spritle Racer and Chim Chim, with Racer X bringing up the rear. In the Masked Racer's arms were three overstuffed bags of candy. "Mom!!" Spritle cried out happily, running over to his mother. "We're baaack...!!!"

Mrs. Racer looked up, and smiled at her youngest son. "Oh, Spritle! Funny, I was just talking about you," she laughed. She was delighted to see her youngest son safe, and in such high spirits.

Spritle hugged her. "No wonder my ears were burning this morning! Look what we got at the candy shop, Mom!" The lad nodded in X's direction.

Mom couldn't believe it. "Three bags...of candy??" she started to say, staring at Spritle in disbelief.

Spritle grinned. "Yep! Racer X helped me replace all the candy I lost in the hospital parking lot, last Sunday. Now I can give everybody their candy." He paused, then looked up at his mom with a contrite expression. "Mom, I'm awful sorry I worried everybody last night. I guess I didn't hear everything Speed had to do--"

"Oh, Spritle. We're just glad you had the foresight, to find someone we knew to stay with." Mom smiled, then patted Spritle's shoulder with great affection. "Now run along, Speed's inside and I have to go the store."

Spritle's grin turned into an impish smirk. "Did Speed do all his chores?" he chortled.

Mrs. Racer laughed. "Yes, and then some!"

"Good!" Spritle turned to Chim Chim. "Come on, Chim Chim. Let's go razz Speed!"

"Wait, Spritle!" the Masked Racer suddenly called out. "What about all your candy?"

Spritle abruptly stopped in his tracks, his eyes widening like saucers. Behind him, Chim Chim hooted noisily. "_Aaaaackk!!!! _My candy!!!" the little boy exclaimed. "I almost forgot about the candy!!!"

"Hey, I know! Speed can help us carry it in! I'll go get him," Spritle declared. He raced towards the house, then began hollering for his big brother as he opened the front door and dashed inside. "Speed? Can you come and help carry my can---"

Suddenly, he caught sight of his older brother and Trixie on the couch, in a rather passionate embrace. The teens were definitely engaged in some very romantic bliss; not only were they enjoying each other's embrace, they were _kissing..._Much to Spritle's disgust. His jaw dropped in comic disbelief, and even Chim Chim was covering his own eyes with a hairy paw. "...dy," Spritle groaned, then made an ugly face at the smooching couple. "Uggghhh!!! MUSH!!!!"

While Spritle tried to convince his lovestruck brother to come outside and help him carry in his goodies, the boys' mom turned to the Masked Racer, a look of gratitude in her eyes. "Racer X, we can't thank you enough for what you've done for our boys. I'm so glad you're joining us for dinner tonight," she declared. "How were Spritle and Chim Chim last night, by the way?"

Racer X/ Rex chuckled heartily. He set his load down on the hood of the Racer family's car, then folded his arms across his chest and leaned up against the front end of the car. "Oh, they were the perfect guests. No trouble at all. Although..." Under the mask, Rex Racer rolled his eyes. "...You could've warned me about Spritle's penchant for sleepwalking at three in the morning."

Mom's face fell when she heard that. "Spritle sleepwalked...?? Oh, dear!" she exclaimed, concerned. "I mean, he doesn't do it very often--"

"No big thing, really. It...Did catch me a little shall we say, off guard?" A small half-smile broke at the corners of X's mouth. "Oh, I see you're on your way out somewhere. I won't keep you, then--"

Mrs. Racer just smiled. "Only to the store, to get a few extra things for tonight.."

"Well, I have something I need to ask of you in private concerning Speed and Trixie. But it can wait until you get back." Ever the gentleman, X/Rex opened the car door for his mother. "Allow me."

At that point, a loud commotion erupted from the house. Both Rex and Mom looked up, to see a red-faced Speed come racing out the front door in hot pursuit of a giggling Spritle and a hooting Chim Chim, with an equally blushing Trixie watching the ruckus from the doorway. Speed was hollering and shaking a clenched fist into the air as the pair rushed out. "Spri-tle!!!! How DARE you interrupt my time with Trixie!!! You weren't supposed to see that, you little sneak...!!!"

Suddenly, he skidded to a stop in front of Racer X. "Oh! Hi, Racer X!" Speed said, forgetting about his baby brother's comic interruption a few minutes before.

He caught sight of the three bags of candy sitting on the hood of the family car. "Ho-ly sweet tooth!" Speed exclaimed, wide-eyed in disbelief. "Gee, Spritle, what'dya do? Rob the candy shop??" He paused, then added jokingly, "Should we be expecting the police anytime soon?"

Spritle giggled, with Chim Chim hooting softly behind him. "Nope! Racer X helped me replace all the candy I lost in the hospital parking lot last Sunday," the lad cheekily replied. "Including the bag Chim Chim stole from ya, in the hospital. Here you go, Speed."

He tossed a bag of bulls-eyes over to his older brother, who made a neat one-handed snatch. "Gee, thanks! But if that's the case...Why didn't you say so when you came barging in?" Speed retorted, raising an eyebrow.

Again, the littlest Racer started to giggle. "'Cause you were too busy, smoochin' Trixie!"

Speed started to say something, but the Masked Racer swiftly stepped in. "Why don't I give you boys a hand with those bags?" the tall, muscular racer suggested kindly, picking a bag off the hood and handing it to Speed. "Besides, Spritle. Your mom needs to go do some shopping, and I need to talk to your brother and Trixie for a few minutes. Alone---although I think you know, what it's about."

Spritle quickly took the hint. "OK! Then me and Chim Chim'll put the candy away!"

Once inside the Racer home, Speed ushered his mentor and chief competitor over to an easy chair. "You said you wanted to talk to us, Racer X. What about?" Speed inquired, settling back down on the sofa with Trixie, after the Masked Racer had comfortably settled himself in the proffered chair.

At first, X didn't answer. As strains of the theme from "_Clambake" _resounded through the living room (Trixie had replayed the first side of the vinyl record), his gaze momentarily fell on the framed picture of himself---a younger Rex, in his first racing machine, the Mach 1---hanging on the wall behind the sofa, and a small sigh escaped from his lips. Given that his secret was already out to Spritle, he realized that at some point he would have to reveal himself to the rest of the family. But the _'when' _and _'where,'_ he wasn't sure of...He snapped back to reality minutes later, when Speed reiterated his question. "Racer X. Are you ok? You said, you wanted to talk to me and Trixie about something--"

Rex chuckled. "Oh! Forgive me, Speed, I guess the music made me space out a moment," he apologized, without revealing any sign of embarrassment. "Yes, I did want to talk to you two. You still interested in going to the drive-in tonight to see Elvis?"

Instantly, Speed and Trixie exchanged hopeful glances. Even though outwardly they had all but given up on the idea, a small part of each (especially, Speed) was still hoping for a miracle. "Umm...Of course we'd still love to go. Especially, Speed," Trixie spoke up eagerly, flashing a knowing smile at her boyfriend. "But...One slight problem. Speed's been a little...Grounded, by his father."

"Partially grounded," Speed grumbled irritably. "I still haven't been cleared to drive. And I can't drive the Mach until Tuesday! If I were to slip out of Pops' sight right now, I'll be more than grounded. I'll be racing history, even before I begin my career!" The teen racing star let out a dejected sigh.

"Ah! I heard about your er, 'punishment.'" A devious chuckle went up from Rex Racer's throat. Oh, how he was going to love this. The privileges of being eldest brother---and knowing how to handle an irate Pops in a more rational manner now than he did, back when he was Speed's age! "Don't worry, Speed. You and Trixie just leave Pops to Spritle and me," the masked man said, a tight half-smile breaking at the corners of his mouth.

Seeing the quizzical looks on the teens' faces, the Masked Racer began to explain his plan. "Now, listen up. My chief mechanic, Joseph, will be bringing Spritle's little Model T by within the hour. The idea is for Spritle to distract your father with the Model T, while I clear the way for you two to escape the house after dinner. Of course, having your mom on our side'll help..." Up went Rex's eyebrow, beneath the mask. "I hardly think Pops will be in any position to argue, if he finds out his wife is in on this."

Speed couldn't believe what he was hearing. His face lit up in a broad, goofy grin. His date with Trixie was still on---courtesy of Racer X! "But...But what about Dr. Wilson?" he wondered out loud.

Again, his mentor smiled. "Not to worry, I've got that covered as well, Speed. Dr. Wilson's all for it," X replied, and smoothly informed the teenagers about his visit to the doctor the other day.

At that, Speed and Trixie both burst into laughter. No kidding, Racer X had all the bases covered...! "X? I gotta hand it to you. You are one sly, sneaky devil!" Speed whooped, his eyes brimming with happy excitement. "Elvis, here we come!"

"There's just one thing, Speed."

Speed looked up. "What's that, X?"

"I want a complete rundown of _'Clambake.' _I was thinking of going to see the movie, myself," his older brother replied jovially. "And I wouldn't mind a sneak preview, to help me make up my mind."

At that, Trixie and Speed both smiled. This was going to be a great night, after all. "You got it!"

Later, when Mrs. Racer returned from the market, Racer X took her aside as he'd promised, and explained his plan in full detail to her. Initially Mom was a little hesitant to sign off on the innocent scheme, until X reassured her that it would go far in helping to settle Speed down----and that he himself had personally spoken to the family physician about the situation. "All right, X. I'll go along with your little plan," Speed's mother said, smiling, after she had finished her phone call to Dr. Wilson confirming everything that Racer X had told her. "It seems Dr. Wilson is in total agreement with your assessment, about Speed's need for light activity. I'll do my best to placate my husband, but you know that won't be an easy task---"

A smiling Racer X leaned up against the kitchen counter. "Don't worry, Mrs. Racer," he answered with a slight chuckle. This was one non-racing duty, he was thoroughly enjoying. "I'm sure that together, we can handle 'the Dragon.' Especially if you have another piece of apple pie at the ready."

Mom Racer beamed at the very thought. "Well, I'll certainly make sure of _that_ !"

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	14. Chapter 14

_**Authors' Note: **__Aww, 'tis time to wind down this slice of Racer family life---but not before another surprise or two! Speed and Trixie get their night out, Pops blows his usual gasket but soon discovers he's been outsmarted...by his own wife, AND Racer X!!!_

_Chapt. 14 Lovers' Escape_

_**You know? It's kind of funny, how things turn out sometimes. Just when you think your best-laid plans have been totally snuffed out, along comes somebody to brighten your day. And for me and Trixie, Racer X sure made our day! But how he was gonna slip us out past Pops' always-eagle eye...now that was the million-dollar question!**_

_**Come to think of it ...Is it my imagination, or is X acting the way my brother Rex used to??**_

_---Speed Racer, on his unexpected change of luck---_

"You know, Mrs. Racer. That was one superb roast," Racer X said, dabbing at his mouth with a linen napkin. "It was absolutely delicious. It reminds me of the way, my mother would make her roast beef dinners."

Mom Racer surveyed the sea of cheerful faces at the dinner table, and beamed happily. In contrast to the Speed- and Spritle-induced chaos of the evening before, dinnertime that Friday night was a lively---but much more orderly and relaxing!---affair. "Well, thank you for those kind words, Racer X. But I think the credit should go to Speed," she said softly, with a proud wink at her middle son. "This was his first time, learning to cook an entire pot roast dinner."

The Masked Racer leaned back in his chair, chuckling. "Oh, is it now? In that case, my compliments to the chef. Good work, Speed," Rex said, reaching for the platter of sliced beef before him. "And I'll take a second helping of that roast beef, if you don't mind." He lifted a good-sized piece of meat onto his plate.

Speed looked up from his plate, startled by the compliment. Considering the way his day had begun, he couldn't believe he'd actually done something right---it looked as if there wasn't going to be much leftovers from this roast! "Gee, thanks, Racer X. Go ahead, there's still plenty to go around," the young racer replied, almost sheepish.

"And I second the motion---for seconds!" Pops added, with a booming laugh. He was definitely in a mellow mood tonight. "Great job, son. I see you've taken your lessons to heart."

Speed made a face. "Despite the fact I nearly burned down the kitchen this morning?" he asked innocently, much to everyone's amusement.

Pops playfully glowered at him. "I won't make a comment about _that_ ."

"Don't forget the apple pie and the vanilla ice cream!" Spritle eagerly interjected. Next to him sat Chim Chim, hooting softly with pleasure. "You gotta make sure you've got room for that, Racer X. Mom makes the best apple pie, in the county---no, actually, I take that back. The whole world!"

The smile on Rex Racer's face broadened. The memories of all those times so long ago, when he and little Speed would just sit in the kitchen and watch as their mom baked something oh-so-good..."Oh, good heavens, no. We certainly can't forget about dessert," he joked, as he passed the platter of meat over to Pops.

Pops let out a hearty laugh. "Hah! Forget those store-bought pies. My wife can put all those big companies, to shame!"

It was Mrs. Racer's turn to blush. "Oh, Dragon, stop it! You're exaggerating now," she laughingly protested.

Her husband grinned. "I am, am I? Why don't you ask the pie fiends who call themselves our sons over there, why there's never enough pie for a second round when you want another piece?" Pops retorted, with a sly look over in Speed's and Spritle's direction.

"Pie fiends!!" Spritle looked up, comically annoyed. "Me and Speed, we just happen to like Mom's pies!" the lad protested. "I don't know what Speed's excuse is, but I'm a growing boy!" Spritle paused, then commented in a rather cheeky fashion, "Besides, Pops. Your one slice, is as big as two of ours put together. Although I guess you're still growing, too." Giggling, the child pointed to his father's midsection.

Oh, boy. That sure got Pops hot under the collar! His face turned beet-red, and he was steaming. "SPRIII-TLE??!!!!"

Spritle cringed in his chair. "Speed!!! Hide me!!!" he wailed.

At that, Speed's mouth gaped open in complete surprise. Moments later he leaned back in his chair and put up his hands in front of him as if to back away. "Ohh, no! I'm staying outta this one!"

His comment quickly defused his dad's comic moment of anger with Spritle. "So you did learn something from this week. Besides a few new skills in the kitchen," Pops joked, chuckling quietly.

Speed felt his face redden. "Yeah. A) Never fool around with Racer X's mask, B) _never _get into a running prank war with your youngest brother, C) always keep a fire extinguisher in the kitchen in case of flaming pancakes, and D) I learned more about that darned 'Curse of the Racer Men,' than I ever cared to know!" he groused playfully.

Still chuckling, Pops reached over and affectionately clapped a huge hand on his middle son's shoulder. "I'm sure you did, Speed. And speaking of that curse...You're not the only one who gets it bad." He paused. A bright gleam filled his eyes, which made Speed and his friends wonder if Pops was about to tell them a story of some sort---the Racer family patriarch was quite fond of using stories, to illustrate a point. "Did your mother or I ever tell you kids about the time your brother Rex walked out of the hospital,_ four days after _an emergency appendectomy? And how three days later we had to rush him back because his stitches broke? Rex was fifteen, it was the year before he got his license...Or was it, six months before?..." On and on Pops went, oblivious to the strange looks coming from not just Speed and his friends but the Masked Racer himself!

Beneath the mask, Rex groaned inwardly. It'd been one thing when Dr. Wilson had mentioned the story, but he'd been in the doctor's office then. But his father---boy, Pops just seemed to love pulling that tale out. _Pops? You would have to bring that up!!! _was X's immediate, embarrassed thought.

You know? It seems that without even realizing it, Pops was doing what a parent does best. Embarrass the heck out of his adult children!

At that point, Mom Racer saw how uneasy the family's guest was getting, so she decided it was time to switch gears and bring in the dessert. "I think now would be a good time to bring in the apple pie," she announced with a smile, as she abruptly rose from her chair to go into the kitchen. "Speed? Would you be a dear, and start clearing off the dinner plates?"

Speed nodded. "Sure thing, Mom."

The lively banter continued over dessert. "So, Pops. Let me get this straight. Did Rex ever say why, he walked out that day?" Sparky wanted to know, between bites of apple pie and ice cream.

Pops snorted."Yes. Said he couldn't deal with the head nurse. A Mrs. McAllister, I believe he said was her name." He paused, raised an eyebrow, then added in a comic aside. "You know? That was the same woman, who kicked me out of my wife's hospital room the night Speed was born!"

"That was because you were so loud," his wife suddenly interjected, with a light laugh. "She said, you'd wake our son up with that loud mouth of yours!"

Her husband suddenly shot her an annoyed look. "I do NOT have a big mouth!" Pops huffed, his face reddening.

Despite the good-natured razzing going on at the dinner table, Speed looked rather edgy and apprehensive as he ate his pie. Trixie noticed his edginess. "Something wrong, Speed?" she whispered, seeing the grimace on his face.

"No, Trixie. Not really." Speed lay his fork down on his plate, then glanced at the dining room clock on the wall. It was already six-thirty, and one could tell he was chomping at the bit to hit the local drive-in theater. "Well, maybe there is. It's just...I guess I'm getting kind of nervous, waiting 'til we can get outta here."

She lay her head on his shoulder then. "I know. I can't wait, either. But we've got to be patient, Speed. Just sit back and enjoy the compliments, ok?" Trixie purred, cuddling up to Speed. "Besides. Was it that bad, learning to cook with me around?"

A small smile twitched at the corners of Speed's mouth. "Not after the first pancake, no," he admitted. "But after the day I had, I'm sure glad Pops didn't ban you from the house!"

About fifteen minutes later, the doorbell rang. Mrs. Racer rose to answer it. "Yes?" she said, opening the front door.

A tall, serious-looking man with sandy-brown hair and wearing mechanics' workclothes stood on the doorstep. He promptly introduced himself as Joseph, Racer X's chief mechanic. "Evening, Mrs. Racer. I was told, Racer X was here."

"Yes, he is. Please, come in." Mom ushered the man inside.

A few minutes later, X came into the living room to greet the visitor. "Joseph! I see you made it. I was expecting to see you and the Model T, over an hour ago!" the Masked Racer joked. "What kept you?"

Joseph grinned. "Sorry I'm late, Boss. But I got a flat on the way, and then ran into big traffic up on the bridge leading into the city. Big tanker truck accident," he replied. "But yeah, the Model T's here. Where do you want it?"

"Bring it to the garage. I'll tell Spritle and Pops, it's back." X turned to go back into the dining room.

He returned to the table minutes later. "All right, Spritle. Your Model T's back," the Masked Racer announced, straight-faced. "Joe, my mechanic, is putting it in the garage now." He nodded at Spritle as if to say, "Time to move, partner!"

Immediately, Spritle's chubby face lit up with glee. He got X's hint, all right---it was time to play "distract Pops so Speed can sneak out with Trixie to Mush-land!" He acted promptly on cue. "Hey, Pops! Hear that, my Model T's back!" the lad happily exclaimed. "You promised, you'd take a look at it---"

Pops was more than eager to check things out, it seemed. "So I did!" he chuckled. "Now. You were saying, Spritle, you needed a bigger gas tank---?"

Spritle played the moment for all it was worth, taking advantage of his father's enthusiasm for anything mechanical to set the stage for big brother Speed's escape to the movies. "Y-yes. I just barely made it to Racer X's house," the lad replied solemnly.

"Yes, and it also could do with a complete tune-up," Rex/X added.

A smiling Pops rose from his chair, rubbing his hands together excitedly. Another car project---he couldn't wait to check out his youngest son's handiwork. "Well, what are we waiting around for? Let's go have a look!" the burly racecar designer declared loudly, starting for the garage. "Sparky!!---To the garage!"

Sparky grinned as he got up from his seat. "Yessir!"

"Hey, wait for me! I'm coming, too!" Spritle hollered, jumping out of his chair and following his dad. A hooting Chim Chim did likewise. "I'm the one who built it, you know---"

Pops turned to the Masked Racer. "You coming, X?" he called out.

X looked up. "I'll be right there, Pops," he answered. A small but devious smile crept across his face. This was going to be a scam of epic proportions on Rex's part; how Pops would take being snookered by his own son---well, X and Mom Racer would deal with his father's temper later. All he knew was that he and Spritle were about to make a certain pair of teenagers, _very_ happy. "I need to speak briefly with my mechanic."

Pops snorted. "Suit yourself! We'll be in the garage."

After Pops and his crew had disappeared into the confines of the family garage, the Masked Racer motioned to Speed and Trixie. "All right, you two. The coast is clear," Rex said in a low voice. "Now's your chance, to slip out and get going. Sundown'll be here in a half-hour, you don't want to miss the start of the movie."

Both Speed and Trixie breathed a huge sigh of relief. This was one pair of lovers, who didn't need any further urging. "Gee, I thought we'd _never _get out of here!" Speed quipped, as Trixie went to retrieve her purse. "Thanks for everything, Racer X. But what about Mom? And, Pops...??"

Suddenly, his mother's soft voice sweetly cut into his worried thoughts. "Oh, don't worry about me, Speed. I'm on your side," Mom said with a laugh, walking into the dining room from the kitchen. "Racer X explained everything to me when I came back from shopping this afternoon. I also spoke to Dr. Wilson, and he said he had no problem with you going to the movies. And as for your father...?" She paused, and smiled knowingly at the young couple. "...There's nothing that'll soothe the beast like a good chunk of apple pie. I made sure I saved a big enough piece to stick in his mouth, should he start squawking."

At that, Speed, Trixie and X all broke into laughter. "Why, Mom! So that's how you keep on Pops' good side!" Speed wisecracked, a wide grin on his face. "You..._Conniver!! _"

"Oh, a little bribery doesn't hurt every now and then. You know your father'll do most anything for another piece of pie." Mom winked at the teens. "Now go on, and have fun tonight."

Speed grinned madly. "Yes, ma'am!"

He grabbed Trixie's hand, startling her into letting out a small scream of surprise. "C'mon, Trix. We're goin' to a clambake!" Speed whooped, as he pulled her towards the sliding glass doors that led out into the back yard.

Mom Racer and X stood there, watching as the two teens snuck out. "You know, X. I feel like I've just helped to break a pair of inmates out of jail," Speed's mom joked.

Rex just chuckled deviously. "All for a good cause, Mrs. Racer. Believe me, Pops won't complain much once he sees how much more agreeable Speed'll be, after having gone to the movies," he answered calmly. "If all else fails---we'll have _him_ talk to Dr. Wilson!"

Ah, yes. Elvis, young love...and Racer X. Now, how's _that _for a winning formula??

Or as Spritle once put it. Maybe they should start calling Rex, "Cupid X'!

5555555555555555555555555

_**Hey, listen, world you've gotta know**_

_**I'm cuttin' loose and lettin' go**_

_**Who needs the worry and the strife**_

_**Life can be a ball now just followin' my life**_

_**Clambake, gonna have a clambake**_

_**Clambake, gonna have a clambake**_

_**Look for the brightest lights in town**_

_**That's where you'll find me hanging round**_

_**I've got this feeling to be free**_

_**I pick and choose the life I want and that's the life for me**_

_**Clambake...**_

_---Elvis Presley, the theme from "Clambake" (1967)---_

_"Speeeed!!!! Not so loud!!!" _Trixie hissed through clenched teeth, as a rather giddy Speed tugged at her hand and pulled her with him around the front of the house. "I know you're itching to go, but the way you're scrambling around just might get your father's attention! This is supposed to be a _quiet_ escape, remember??"

An excited Speed sheepishly grinned. "Oops! Ahh...Sorry about that, Trixie! I guess I got too excited there for a minute," he admitted. "I forgot. I just hope X and Mom have a plan for keeping the volcano from blowing a hole in the roof!"

Actually, there was such a plan. It called for the pair to slip out the back and come around to the front, avoiding the garage area as much as possible. Racer X, his mechanic, and Spritle would all try to keep Pops inside the garage, with the boys' mother hanging around as backup...Ready to appease her husband with a piece of pie, should Pops make a fuss over the teenagers' absence. The cover story was that Trixie had gone to her apartment while Speed, after such a big meal, had gotten so drowsy that he'd decided to call it an early night.

Well, so far so good.

Cautiously, the teens crept towards where Trixie's convertible was parked, taking care to duck below the large bay window that opened a view into the family living room. From the garage, they could hear Pops' booming voice, coupled with the excited voices of Sparky and little Spritle. "Gee! I feel like we're secret agents or something," Speed good-naturedly complained. "And we're on some covert operation!"

"Oh, will you just hush, Speed Racer, and get in the car!" Trixie pushed her grimacing boyfriend over to the passenger side of the car. She opened the door, and urged him in. "Come on, we've got fifteen minutes before the show starts!"

Speed quickly fastened his seat belt. "Well, you're doing the driving, Trixie. Let's go!"

Let's see, now. _Speed&Trixie+convertible+drive-in movie+Elvis=...._

_...One big headache for Pops???_

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	15. Chapter 15

_**Sorry for the delay in posting, our house has become a sick house this week! Janee and I both came down with a stomach virus and we're just finally gotten over it...**_

_**Authors' Note: **__If anyone is confused by certain references, I hope this helps. "Clambake" refers to the 25__th__ film in a series of 31 made by the late Elvis Presley in the late 1950s-1960s. "Eddie Wilson" is the name of the fictional lead character in the 1983 and 1988 movies "Eddie and the Cruisers" and "Eddie and the Cruisers II: Eddie Lives!" starring Michael Pare as Eddie. The Cruisers' 60s-style music was written by and performed in the films by John Cafferty and the Beaver Brown Band, for those of you who might not be familiar with the references._

_Chapt. 15 Who's Busting Who Here???_

The sun slowly began to sink below the city skyline, painting the light blue evening sky in swirls of vivid yellow, pink and orange, making the clouds look like cotton candy. For Speed, the feeling of the cool evening breeze whipping through his hair after nearly a week of being confined indoors (his "recovery time," his parents called it) was a welcome sensation as the yellow Mercedes convertible zipped along the outer edges of town, away from the Racer home. He was still in somewhat of a daze, unable to believe his sudden good fortune—Racer X, daring to risk Pops' infamous volcano-like wrath just so Speed and Trixie could go out on a movie date??? And Mom Racer—well, it was also hard to believe that his own sweet mom was in on this conspiracy too, as was the family physician. Not that Speed was going to argue with the Masked Racer's method; after all, going to the movies sure beat spending Friday night at home with his parents and little brother!

The best part of X's scheme? No Spritle to interrupt the romantic moment—for a change. He was too busy keeping Pops busy, from finding out about Speed and Trixie's sneaking out to the local drive-in!

Speed sank back in his seat, inhaling deeply the fresh, clean night air and savoring every moment of his unexpected excursion. "Ahhh! Freedom!" he breathed, a broad grin on his face. "Isn't it beautiful!"

He glanced over at Trixie. "But can you believe it? Can you believe, Racer X actually covering for us while we go on a date--?" Speed deadpanned, a bright gleam in his eyes. "Who would've thought it?"

Trixie laughed. She looked completely relaxed sitting behind the wheel, her short bouncy brown hair fluttering in the evening breeze. "Um, hmm! And it's not even Valentine's Day," she replied, her green eyes sparkling merrily. "But there's still one thing that puzzles me about all this, Speed."

Up went Speed's eyebrow. "What's that, Trixie?"

She smiled coyly. "Oh, I don't know. I guess that ever since your little 'misadventure' with that God-awful Jack Wiley on Sunday, it seems to me that Racer X is acting more like a brother to you instead of being your chief racing rival," Trixie casually remarked.

Speed nodded, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. He was quick to see her point, and it actually did make a lot of sense. He himself had taken note of the Masked Racer's behavior towards him since the kidnapping/rescue, and it only served to fuel the teen racer's innate curiosity about the man's true identity even more. "I know what you mean, Trix. I swear, I see an awful lot of my brother Rex in the Masked Racer too," he admitted quietly. "If it hadn't been for Wiley's gang of goons on Sunday, I probably would've gotten a good look at the man. I'd been _this close_ to seeing who Racer X really was, when I got clunked over the head." Speed paused, then sighed wistfully. "Now I guess we'll never find out who he is."

Trixie lay a hand on his arm, and smiled warmly at him. "Well, there's no sense moaning over lost opportunities. Not since when we've just been handed a golden one to get away for a few hours," she declared dreamily. "You and me, and Elvis...Some good music and a lot of laughs, I hope."

At that, Speed broke into a boyish laugh. "Yeah. Courtesy of Racer X, my mom, and Doc Wilson!" he gasped, between peals of laughter. Trixie soon joined him, and the teens' infectious laughter rang out in the night air.

Their laughter was soon cut short by a rather unsettling thought. "Uh-ohh! Trixie, I just thought of something. What's Pops gonna say when he finds out, we're gone?" Speed suddenly gulped, squeezing his eyes shut and wincing nervously at the very idea. Already, an image of his father about to erupt flashed into the young racecar driver's brain. He could see Pops now, standing in the doorway with his arms folded across his chest and a furious scowl on his ever-reddening face; just the very thought of having to face an angry Pops scared him. "I sure hope Racer X and Mom can put a lid on Pops' temper when we get back!"

Trixie giggled. She shook back her hair, amused at her boyfriend's comic panic. "Oh, don't be such a worrywart, Speed!" she softly chided him. "Didn't you hear what your mom said? She's saving a huge piece of apple pie, just for that very purpose! And, besides. I think we should be worrying about getting in line for the movie now. Take a look." She pointed to her right, at the entrance to the movie theater. A long line of cars crawled at a snail's pace ahead of them, waiting to pay admission and then find their favorite spots in the theater parking lot.

Speed's eyes widened in amazement. "Gee! Seems like the whole city has the same idea as we do tonight," he joked, as Trixie turned on her blinker to make a right-hand turn. "Better join the line, Trixie. We need to find a good place to park!"

Trixie shot him a wry look. "A good place to park--!" she scoffed, echoing Speed's comment. "Speed Racer, I think I know where you're going with this. More like, a good spot to watch the show _and _to make a little romance!"

An impish grin lit up Speed's face. "And what's wrong with a little romance?" he inquired innocently. "Like Pops told me Thursday night. That's what drive-in movie theaters are for! Besides, Trixie. I thought you liked a little romance." He winked flirtatiously at Trixie.

Trixie pursed her lips together in a playful pout. "Oooh, you!!! Speed Racer, now you're just being plain silly!" she declared, furrowing her eyebrows together. "If not, a downright flirt!"

"Nooo. I'm just being a guy, who wants to spend time alone with his favorite navigator and Number One fan." The impish gleam in Speed's cobalt blue eyes grew brighter. A quirky smirk twitched at the corners of his mouth.

"We will! Let's get into the drive-in first. OK, Mr. Lovestruck Would-be Super Famous Racecar Driver???" Suppressing an urge to laugh, Trixie shook her head in disbelief, then moved the car forward as the line began to snake ahead.

OK, Speed, we know where _this_ is headed.---_ALERT: LOVEBIRDS ON THE LOOSE!!!_

They paid their admission, then began the search for the perfect viewing spot. As Speed and Trixie drove past the concession stand, they were hailed by the local hot rodders' club. There were about a dozen or so of them, all wearing jeans and black leather jackets. "Hey, looky who decided to show up tonight, boys. It's Raceboy!" the gang's leader, who was but a year or two older than Speed, shouted out with a laugh. In appearance he might have passed as an identical twin to the fictional Eddie Wilson, lead singer for the mythical "Eddie and the Cruisers." He dressed like Eddie, and even had Eddie's trademark swagger and attitude—right down to the fully-restored blue and white 1957 Chevy convertible. "Hey, Racer! Heard ya went to a barbecue instead of a race last Sunday. What happened?"

Speed broke into a grin. If he'd heard that kind of crack earlier in the week, there would have been no telling how he might've reacted, given his emotional state right after the kidnapping. But now...He just laughed it off. "Aw, go on with you, Tony! I almost _became_ the barbecue!" Speed retorted amid the whooping and laughing. He leaned his arm lightly on the door frame.

"So. You entering the Western next weekend, Speed?" another rodder wanted to know.

Speed shrugged lightly. "I suppose that all depends on whose opinion you agree with more. Pops, or the track doctor," he answered quietly. Wisely, he said nothing about the other restrictions imposed on him by his father the evening before. "I still gotta be cleared to drive, then pass a physical before I can even step back onto a racetrack. We'll just have to wait and see, I guess...See you later, fellas!" With a friendly wave at the street rodders, he and Trixie drove away.

The couple soon found their ideal spot in one of the middle rows, and promptly claimed it. It was just the right spot—not too close to the movie screen yet close enough to the restrooms and the snack bar. Around them, other couples were taking advantage of the wait time to engage in some very romantic pre-movie activity; judging by how the cars were swaying from side to side, the back seat was a _ver-ry _popular place to be that Friday night. A veritable good old-fashioned "mush-fest," as Spritle would say.

Trixie started to get out of the car. "OK. I'll go get us some snacks," she offered, closing the car door behind her. "You just sit back and relax. Anything in particular you want from the snack bar?"

Speed looked up from his task of rigging the drive-in speaker onto the passenger window. "Ahhh...A Coke, and a nice big bucket of popcorn sounds good to me," he replied with a grin.

His girlfriend laughed. "I'll be right back," Trixie said, winking playfully at Speed as she headed for the snack bar. "You stay put, Mr. Racer!"

Speed feigned a hurt look. "Awww, Trix! What makes you think, I'm going anywhere?" he crooned softly, flashing his baby blues at her. "I'm just so happy, to be at the theater with you!"

Trixie smiled wryly. Uh, huh. There Speed went, flirting with her as usual. "Flirt," she shot back, then walked away.

She returned to the car some ten minutes later, just as the lights began to dim and the movie previews began to roll onscreen. "Just in time!" Speed joked, as Trixie handed him a huge bucket of buttered popcorn and two large Cokes. "Show's about to start. Hop in!"

"Well, don't spill our snacks. I don't plan on getting another bucket of popcorn right now...Move over, Speed, I'm coming in!" Trixie slid gracefully into her seat. She closed the door, put up the roof of the convertible, then began to cozy up to her boyfriend. A broadly-grinning Speed handed Trixie her soda, then placed his left arm around her shoulders. Popcorn in place, the teen lovers settled in to enjoy the show.

And to make a little romance, no doubt.

Popcorn balanced in his lap, his Coke in his right hand and his favorite navigator/race spotter beside him and cuddling him, Speed leaned back in his seat and relaxed. Now, this was his idea of a perfect Friday night—just him, Trixie, an outdoor movie, and snacks! Impulsively he leaned over and planted a kiss on Trixie's cheek, which caused her to blush big time. "Speeed!!!" Trixie squealed, startled by his gesture. "Not now!!"

A boyish grin lit up Speed's face. "Okay, then. I'll just wait for the movie to start!"

Exactly at nightfall, the lights suddenly went totally dark, except for those by the restrooms and the snack bar. All chatter ceased, as all attention immediately focused on the huge outdoor movie screen. A few moments later the familiar sound of Elvis Presley's rich, powerful voice rang through the night air, belting out the theme song to _"Clambake." _[Simply stated, _"Clambake" _was essentially another turn on Mark Twain's _"The Prince and the Pauper" _: a rich young playboy basically trades places with a poor but happy "average Joe" on the beaches of Florida. Scott Heyward (portrayed by Elvis), heir to an oil fortune, wants to be accepted for himself and not his money, while Tom Wilson, the hotel's new water-ski instructor (played by Will Hutchins) wants to find out what it's like to be wealthy and to enjoy the lifestyle it brings. Naturally there was lots of Elvis, plenty of bikini babes and surfer dudes, a power boat race, and of course, plenty of Elvis' music...]

_...Party town, USA!_

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Back at the Racer home, work on Spritle's Model T progressed smoothly.

After a while, Mom Racer popped into the garage, to see how things were progressing. At the back of the garage, behind the Mach 5, Spritle's Model T lay partially disassembled on the floor. Pops, the Masked Racer, and Sparky were all working on installing a new, larger gas tank while Spritle and Chim Chim looked on, a pair of eager spectators. "How's it going, boys?" Mom called out, over the constant din of clanging, banging, and drilling. She carried a tray of lemonade-filled glasses.

Pops glanced up from his work. "Hmm? Oh! Fine, dear. Everything's going fine," he replied. He grabbed a nearby rag off the workbench, and wiped his hands.

"Well, you all have been working pretty hard on Spritle's pet project. So I thought, I'd make you boys some lemonade." Mom set the tray on a nearby workstation, off to her left.

Sparky's face lit up at the mere mention of a drink. "Lemonade? Gee, that sounds great, Mrs. Racer!" he said enthusiastically.

Pops chuckled. "Well, I suppose we could all use a glass right about now. I think I've worked up quite a thirst," he answered jovially. "What say you, Racer X?"

From beneath the mask, Rex smiled, inwardly enjoying the scene. Pops was definitely in a good mood tonight, and Mom was...well, being her motherly self, as usual. "Well, I certainly can't say 'no' to a nice tall glass of lemonade," the Masked Racer replied, accepting a glass from Mom Racer. "And I hear, Mrs. Racer, you make a mean pitcher of lemonade."

Mom laughed. "Let me guess. One or both of my sons have been bragging about my lemonade," she shot back, as she handed out the other glasses.

As everyone took a well-deserved break from their work, Pops furtively glanced around the garage. Was it his imagination, or was the house just a little...Too quiet? "You know, it's been awfully quiet in the house tonight. Where's Speed?" he suddenly asked, sipping at his glass of lemonade with a puzzled look on his face.

His wife smiled, acting very nonchalant. "Oh, he decided to go to bed early. Trixie's already gone home," Mrs. Racer replied, perfectly straight-faced. "Apparently Speed ate a little too much at dinner, so he's gone upstairs to sleep it off."

At that, Speed and Spritle's dad burst into a loud guffaw. "Speed? Overeat?" Pops exclaimed, with a hearty laugh. "Most of the time, that boy eats like a bird! He could stand to add a little muscle--"

Here, Spritle couldn't resist chiming in. "Or maybe...Maybe he's starting to pick up some of your eating habits, Pops," the little boy innocently chirped up, a sly look in his wide eyes.

Pops suddenly stared at him, slightly annoyed. "And just what do you mean by _that_, Spritle?" he said, eying his youngest son in an odd sort of manner.

A sheepish Spritle felt his cheeks slowly turn crimson. "Ummm...Nothing, Pops. Nothing!" He dashed around the other side of the Mach 5, out of his comically sputtering father's reach. A screeching Chim Chim followed him.

Moments later, four little eyes peered around the rear quarter of Speed's car. "You are gonna finish my car when you're done with your lemonade. Right Pops?" Spritle timidly inquired.

His father looked at him, and laughed. "Of course we're gonna finish your Model T!"

He then turned to his guest. "Racer X. You said earlier, that the engine needed a tune-up," Pops stated, matter-of-factly.

Rex nodded. "Absolutely. We might also check the distributor cap as well," he replied calmly. "Don't worry, I'll take care of the tune-up. You and Sparky can finish with the gas tank."

Pops nodded. "Sounds like a plan to me."

"What do you want me to do?" an eager Spritle asked, wanting to be of help.

The Masked Racer smiled knowingly at his little accomplice. "You, Spritle, can have the honor of getting me that box of spark plugs off your father's workbench," Rex replied smugly.

Spritle just grinned, ear to ear. "Gotchya! One box of spark plugs, coming right up!"

While the men continued to work through the evening in the garage, Speed's mom returned to one of her favorite pasttimes---her knitting---smiling to herself all the while. So far, so good---Racer X's plan to sneak Speed and Trixie out to the movies was working to perfection, and Pops was none the wiser for it...Yet. Mrs. Racer could only hope as she resumed her knitting, that the kids would get home before the "Dragon" found out the truth!

A few hours later, Pops lay down the wrench he was using, and wiped off his oily hands on the rag next to him. "You'll have to excuse me. I'll be right back," he informed the others, starting for the screen door that separated the garage from the kitchen.

"Where are you going, Pops?" a curious Spritle inquired.

Pops made a face, and grunted. "To the bathroom! Where else?" he shot back. "You boys can finish up in here."

Sparky grinned. "Yeah, we're just about done with the gas tank, Pops. And Racer X has a handle on the tune-up. We can handle it," Speed's mechanic pal replied.

"I know you can! Why d'ya think, I said what I said??"

On his way back into the house, Pops paused to compliment his youngest son. "Spritle? Great job on your Model T, son. A few adjustments were needed but overall, it's an excellent design," the ex-wrestler-turned-car designer said, clapping a huge hand on Spritle's shoulder. "You'll be a fine car designer some day. Just like your old man!" With a short laugh, Pops walked away.

Surprised by his father's heartfelt compliment, Spritle blushed happily. "Uh...Gee, thanks, Pops!"

At that, Chim Chim began to jump up and down excitedly, hooting gleefully as he did so. Spritle was quick to hush him. "Careful, Chim Chim. You'll knock something over!" the lad cried out, alarmed.

Mom Racer was still sitting in the living room with her knitting when Pops hurried by. "Done already?" she inquired, looking up and seeing her husband heading for the stairs.

Pops grunted. "We're almost done. I just have to pay a visit to the little boy's room, that's all."

He hurried upstairs, towards the bathroom. As he strode past Speed's bedroom, Pops decided to peek in on his supposedly-sleeping middle son. "Speed?"

To Pops' surprise, no Speed in sight. At first, he thought that Speed might have gotten up to use the bathroom. "Huh! That's odd. Maybe he had to use the bathroom...Speaking of which, I'd better get there, myself."

About ten minutes later a huffing, red-faced Pops came rushing down the stairs. A worried expression was etched onto his face. His wife noticed his sudden anxiety, and quickly lay aside her knitting. "What's wrong, Dragon?"

Initially, Pops managed to maintain his cool. There was no hiding the alarm in his voice and on his face, however. "It's Speed. He's not in his room. I thought you said, he was going to bed--"

Mrs. Racer drew a sudden, sharp breath. Ohh, boy, this definitely wasn't good—the "Dragon" was about to erupt! Still, she managed to keep her feelings in check. "He was! At least, that's what he told me after dinner---"

Pops felt his anxiety---and, his temper---beginning to really get the best of him now. He didn't want to think the worst about his son, but after last Sunday's run-in with Jack Wiley, he couldn't help but wonder. "Did you hear anything at all while we were in the garage? Anything, that might've sounded like a break-in?"

"No, dear. I didn't hear a thing--"

"Then..._WHERE IS HE????" _As usual, the human volcano didn't wait to blow his top. Mount-Not-So-Saintly-Pops suddenly exploded, his face now turned totally beet-red.

At that point, Speed's mom realized that perhaps it was time to let her simmering husband in on the evening's fun. But first...the pie. "Dear, I think you'd better sit down," she suggested dryly, rising from her chair. "There's something that needs to be said about this..."

Sit down?? Absolutely! Just don't forget the apple pie, Mom. Pops is really gonna need it when Speed gets home!

Out in the garage, the sound of Pops' bellowing immediately caused everyone to freeze in place. "Uh...ohhh!!!" Spritle suddenly gulped, wide-eyed with comic fear. "Racer X! I think Pops just found out about Speed and Trixie! What'll we do??"

Even Rex Racer was ruffled a bit by his father's outburst. All this time away from his childhood home, and he still had difficulty dealing with Pops' temper! He quickly realized, his well-intentioned plan was about to be sorely tested by his own father. "Well, in that case...I think we'll just wait out here a few minutes and let your mother explain to Pops, Speed's been sent to the movies," the Masked Racer replied, looking a little rattled. "I just hope she saved your father a big enough piece of that apple pie, to pacify him!"

Ya think, X...???

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Sometime after midnight, the movie ended and the drive-in lights came back up, illuminating what easily could be termed as a madhouse. The drive-in crowd began to thin out, the parking lot becoming a veritable sea of red tail lights, honking horns, and constant whooping as the line of slow-crawling vehicles headed for the main exit. Clearly, Elvis had more than just satisfied the local movie-going public that Friday night; he had thoroughly entertained his loyal subjects, as only the King of Rock 'n' Roll could do.

A tired but very happy Speed Racer and Trixie Shimura waited patiently for the traffic to move out. Laughing, talking excitedly, with the occasional smooch thrown in for good measure, they followed the logjam of cars to the exit gate. "Man, oh man! That was some movie!" Speed exclaimed. A goofy grin lit up his face, going from ear to ear. He was definitely in high spirits. "The King sure was in fine fettle tonight. Wasn't he, Trix?"

Trixie smiled demurely. Like many other teens of that time, she and Speed were both huge Elvis fans, and just the announcement of a new movie or recording was enough to send them both into rock 'n' roll nirvana (Trixie especially!) "I'll say!" she declared, with a light laugh. "I mean, look at that power boat race—it was a real rush!"

Speed's blue eyes shone merrily with enthusiasm. "Yeah, I could actually feel that sense of power and speed. But it was the idea of the rich, unattached playboy trading places with the water ski instructor, that did it for me. That was priceless, with all those misunderstandings," he answered, a dreamy look engulfing his face.

Silence fell over the teens for several minutes, as both attempted to bring themselves out of the clouds and back down to earth. The whole evening had passed so quickly, to the point where both Speed and Trixie had to pinch themselves to make sure they _weren't_ dreaming. "So. Was this worth the price of your week-long shenanigans, Mr. Racer?" Trixie playfully teased her date.

Again, the grin on Speed's face widened. "Aw, c'mon, Trix. You know the answer to that," he replied, a mishcievous glint in his eye. Seizing the moment, he leaned over and stuck a kiss on his girl's cheek.

Just then, a group of rowdy teens in a battered old 1963 Chevy pickup truck pulled up alongside the Mercedes. There were at least three couples riding in the bed of the pickup; all of them had gone to high school with Speed and Trixie. "Hey, Racer! Get a motel room, if you wanna get it on with your girl!" a tall, red-haired beanpole sitting in the back of the truck good-naturedly yelled over at Speed and Trixie. "The local no-tell motel's thataway!!!"

Speed looked to his right, and groaned inwardly. Of all the people he didn't need to see tonight---the class clown, Billy Winger. Seems like this jerk had one thing on his mind all the time, and everytime he saw Speed he never failed to needle the young racing star about his apparent lack of interest in a certain type of male behavior; at last count, Speed remembered with slight annoyance, Billy had scored with at least five different girls..."Hey, Winger. Why don't you take your own advice? I'm sure Lauren over there, will appreciate how big a man you really are," he retorted sarcastically. "How many girls does it make, this month? Five??"

He nodded to Trixie. "C'mon. Let's leave these Neanderthals behind, and go home," Speed said sourly, still shooting the laughing fools in the truck a nasty glare.

A shuddering Trixie agreed. "Ugh!!! Neanderthals, is right!" she echoed, shifting the car into first gear. "How did we ever get past that bunch of morons in high school, anyways?"

Speed shrugged. "Beats me! But I'm glad, we stuck to our guns." He yawned sleepily, surprised by just how exhausted he was. "Gee! It's past midnight, Trixie. Time to get this Cinderfella home!"

"Yes. Before I turn into a mouse, and my car becomes a pumpkin," Trixie bantered, a lively twinkle in her eye. "And your father turns into a grumpy ol' taskmaster!"

Speed suddenly swallowed hard. "Don't remind me!!"

Speed had every right to be worried about his father's reaction to him going out. As the yellow convertible turned into the Racer driveway a half-hour later, Trixie could see a scowling face peering out from behind the living room draperies. "Uhh, Speed? I think we've been busted," she whispered hoarsely. "I think you were right, about your father. It looks like, he's been waiting for us!" She pointed to the living room window.

Speed caught sight of the figure at the window. A huge lump stuck in his throat. "Ohh, boy. I hope X is ready to back us up!" he breathed nervously. "Maybe we ought try to sneak in through the garage---"

_Too late! _As the couple silently slipped out of Trixie's convertible and started to tiptoe their way towards the garage, the front door opened. There stood Speed's dad, just as the young racer had envisioned him doing earlier in the evening. _"Speed! Come in here, right this instant. I want to talk to both of you---!!!"_

Trixie and Speed exchanged looks of alarm. Hell sure had no fury, like an angry Pops Racer! "Ohh, man. Time to face the music, Trix," Speed breathed, very nervous. "Now we're really in for it!"

Really, Speed? I hadn't noticed!

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"I can't believe you two. I can't believe, you would go out behind our backs like this." In the living room, a very displeased Pops paced in front of the sofa, fighting to keep his growing anger in check. Speed and Trixie sat on the sofa, stone-faced if not considerably embarrassed. Mom Racer hovered nearby, a look of concern on her face. A piece of apple pie sat on a plate, on the coffee table in front of the teens. What had started out as a very pleasant evening, was about to get ugly.

The problem was, Pops didn't know the full story—yet. He'd cut Mom off earlier before she had a chance to lay out the whole plot for him. "Now, Speed. I'm very, _very _disappointed in you, sneaking off like this with Trixie. I thought we had agreed, you weren't going out until you saw the doctor," Speed's dad said, eying the couple with a high degree of irritation and annoyance.

A white-faced Speed began to squirm uneasily on the sofa. Trixie looked on, equally alarmed. "B-but Pops! I-I can explain everything...!" he cried out, feeling desperate.

"Well, I'm waiting!" his father snapped, scowling. He was in no mood, for frivolous explanations. "This had better be a good explanation--!"

At that point, Racer X, Sparky, and Spritle entered the living room from the garage. The Masked Racer quickly ascertained the situation, and decided it was time to take the heat off Speed and his girl. "It's all right, Pops. You can relax," X said, assuring his host with his usual tight half-smile. "Both Mrs. Racer and I checked with Dr. Wilson about this, before we gave Speed and Trixie the go-ahead to see the movie. And, besides." Rex Racer paused, then flashed yet another of those annoyingly familiar half-smiles at Pops. "It was MY idea in the first place. With a little help from Spritle. And Mrs. Racer was only too happy, to assist us with my plan...So please, don't blame Speed for this."

Almost immediately, a stunned silence filled the living room. Pops looked like someone had just dropped him on his head, unable to believe what he was hearing. "Whaaat???" the former pro wrestler said, too stunned to even blow his top. "Honey, is that—is that true? You were in on this, too???"

Mom Racer stared crossly at her husband. "Why, yes, I was!" she declared defensively. "I was trying to explain it to you earlier, but you just flew off the handle and wouldn't listen to me! And, dear?---Here's some more pie for you to chew on!" Before Pops could squawk any further, Speed's mother picked up the plate of pie from the coffee table and proceeded to just stuff the sweet dessert right into her unsuspecting husband's mouth.

Poor Pops! Sputtering, he nearly choked on the pie, then began to chew and swallow. His face turned a bright red. Speed and his friends, meanwhile, burst out laughing at the sight. "Nice timing, Mom!" Speed whooped, grinning madly.

Trixie giggled. "Looks like the slice of pie your mom saved, was big enough after all," she whispered to Speed, who nodded in agreement.

A muffled threat escaped Pops' lips. "Speed??! You just wait 'til I'm done chewing---!!!"

Racer X chuckled heartily, enjoying the scene. "Pops, really! I know you like your pie, but don't you know it's not polite to growl with your mouth full?" the Masked Racer joked, which elicited another muffled growl from the senior Racer.

Finally, Pops managed to swallow the last of the pie, and found his voice. One could say, he had been made a fool of---by an unlikely source. "X...!!!!" the burly car designer fumed. "What am I to do with all of you?? I've just had the wool pulled over my eyes here--"

A giggling Spritle innocently piped up. "Gee, Pops. That must've been one awfully big sheep--!!"

His father glared at him, his face ever reddening. "Spritle??!! You want me to send you to your room...??" Pops began, struggling to hold himself together amid the collective chuckling going around the room.

Already, Spritle was high-tailing it for the stairs, with Chim Chim right behind. "I'm already heading for bed! 'Night, everyone!" the little boy called out, thundering up the stairs to his room.

"SPRII-TLLE!!!!" Pops bellowed.

His wife lay a soothing hand on his shoulder. "Oh, let him be, dear. There really wasn't any harm done tonight. From what both Racer X and Dr. Wilson told me, it probably did Speed some good to get out. Help him clear his head, so to speak," Mom said softly, smiling affectionately at her bewildered husband.

"Yes, and now he'll be more likely to follow the rest of the instructions that you and the doctor have given him," Rex added quietly. "Think about it, Pops. Speed's more likely to settle down, now that his urge to get out of the house has been satisfied."

At length, Pops began to calm down. He mulled over what both his wife and the Masked Racer had said, and soon realized that they had raised some valid points. He also soon began to realize, that perhaps he had been too hard on Speed this past week—in his haste to make sure the teenager recovered from his ordeal properly, he'd become much too over-protective; much the same way, he'd been over-protective of his eldest son Rex.

He relaxed, and chuckled. Pops quickly saw that the joke was on him---and it was a very good one, at that. "Well, I gotta hand it to you, X. That was one doozy of a ruse you pulled off," he admitted, feeling a little more jovial about things now. "You certainly know, how to handle my son."

X merely smiled. "Why, thank you."

Pops shot him a suspicious glance. "Are you sure, you're not the reincarnation of my son Rex?" he cautiously inquired.

"I would hardly think so. It would be impossible, for reincarnation to occur that quickly," X replied, perfectly straight-faced. Oh, was he loving this---if only there were some way, he could reveal himself to his father. The look on Pops' face---now that would be priceless.

(That'll be coming sooner than you think, Rex!)

Speed, meanwhile, was hoping that the worst was over. His mother and Racer X seemed to have finally deflated his dad's enormous temper, and he was more than eager to get off the subject now that things had quieted down. "So...Does that mean, we're off the hook for tonight?" the teen racing star asked, a hopeful tone to his voice.

His father turned, and sent him a mock scowl. "I didn't say that..." Pops paused, in an attempt to make Speed sweat things out just a little. Then suddenly, he broke into loud laughter. "...You still haven't told me, how the movie was!"

It was Speed's turn to blush heavily. Pops sure knew how to make a comeback, all right! "Well, you didn't ask!" he retorted, flustered.

Pops chuckled. "Well, I am now!"

Things settled down after that, as Speed and Trixie began to enthusiastically tell his parents and Racer X all about "_Clambake." _When they were through, Speed's dad was all smiles. "_'Clambake,' _eh?" he mused, stroking his chin in thought. "Sounds like it was a lotta fun, son."

Speed nodded eagerly. "It sure was! The story, the music...I'd say it was one of the King's better film roles. I'd recommend it, Pops," he enthused.

Pops turned to his wife. "Well, dear, how about it?" he asked, with a big grin on his face. "Should we go to the drive-in tomorrow night?"

Mom Racer laughed. "Oh, that sounds wonderful, Dragon!" she said, beaming happily. She was just glad, things had worked out for everyone in the end.

"Then that settles it!" Pops declared, rubbing his hands together in anticipation. "Speed, you're staying home tomorrow night, and watch your little brother. I'm taking your mother on a date---to see Elvis!"

Speed and Trixie exchanged happy looks. This would be one evening, he wouldn't mind staying home..."Whatever you say, Pops. Whatever you say," was his comment on things.

Before everyone left the Racer home for the night, Pops quietly took Speed aside for a private word or two. "Speed. Before you go upstairs. I'd like a word with you, please," the Racer family patriarch said softly.

Speed looked surprised. "What about, Pops?"

A pause. Then, Pops placed a large sinewy hand on the young man's shoulder. "Listen, son, I've been thinking. Maybe I was a little harsh on you this week, in my haste to make sure you were ok after that fire at Wiley's place. I oughta know by now, you're a quick healer. I'm sorry for all the yelling I've done--"

Speed slowly shook his head. He sensed what his father was getting at, and tried to reassure him. "No, Pops. You were just being a parent," he answered softly, his eyes beginning to mist slightly at the thought. "I'm not exactly proud of my behavior this week, either. It wasn't much better. But don't worry, I intend to keep my word and serve out the rest of my punishment." Speed paused, then flashed a tired grin at his father. "Must be that darn Curse of the Racer Men, you and Mom keep talking about."

His dad returned the smile. "I suppose, it is. Now run upstairs, and get ready for bed. It's already after one in the morning," Pops said, and clapped an affectionate hand on his son's back.

In the background, X watched the interplay between his father and younger brother with great amusement and high satisfaction. He was feeling really good about this, feeling very pleased with himself for tonight's efforts. Smiling that tight half-smile of his (the one that really drove Pops crazy), he chuckled heartily, causing Pops to swing around. "And just what are you laughing about, Racer X?" Pops suddenly demanded, a look of comic annoyance on his face.

Rex smirked. "Oh, nothing, Pops. Good night," he said smugly, and started for the door.

"Wait!" Pops suddenly called out.

He turned around then, to face his own father one more time. "Are you certain, you're not Rex??" Pops blurted out, without realizing what he was saying. Racer X merely smiled again, then walked out.

Poor Pops! He stood there in the doorway, scowling and watching as the masked figure hopped into his race car and started the engine. One of these days... "Ehh! I'll figure that fellow out. Someday," he muttered to himself.

Then he closed the door, and turned out the living room lights.

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	16. Chapter 16

_**NOTE: **__At last---the final chapter! Enjoy, and thanks for reading!_

_Chapt. 16 A Family Reunited---At Last!_

_Gee, what can I say, guys? The good news is, things finally seemed to be getting back to normal at our house after the wild, topsy-turvy two weeks we all had. The bad news? I still had to serve out my punishment. (That'll be the last time, I ever engage my little brother Spritle in a battle of practical jokes!)_

_Still, it was something less than climatic after my movie date with Trixie. Dr. Wilson finally gave me the green light to resume normal activity (that includes driving---hooray!) on Saturday morning. Saturday evening, Pops took Mom out to the drive-in to see "Clambake"...Now, you think Trixie and I did the romance thing during the movie. Seems like Elvis struck a chord with my parents, too---they enjoyed the movie so much that they were carrying on like a pair of lovestruck teenagers themselves, even when they got home! (I won't say what went on after my parents got back, but I'm sure you can use your imagination on that one!) Although I admit, there were a few anxious moments on my part when I had to cook Sunday night's spaghetti dinner...Boy, was I ever relieved (and probably the happiest guy on the block!) when my dad announced during dinner, that I'd earned my ticket to the Western 500 the following weekend. What made me even happier was passing the track physical Tuesday morning, then Pops finally relenting and tossing back to me the keys to the Mach 5! Just the feel of the track beneath me and all that power at my command again, was worth the wait._

_I suppose in the end, though, both Pops and I learned something about ourselves after the fire at Jack Wiley's place and my subsequent recovery period. Me? How NOT to get myself kidnapped. And Pops? Well, I'd like to think my father now realizes, I'm not his little boy anymore and he can't always protect me from everything in life. Still, it's nice to know that he and Mom will be there for me whenever something goes wrong..._

_But then, there's the mystery that is Racer X..._

---Speed Racer, summing up his recent experiences----

The final lap of the Western 500...

The collective roar of powerful race engines screaming down the back straightaway towards the finish line brought the standing-room-only capacity crowd to its feet. After 249 laps around the Great Western Speedway, the run for the checkered flag had come down to two familiar vehicles: Racer X's black and yellow aptly-named Shooting Star, and the sleek, white and red form of the Mach 5. Racing fans began to hold their breath, as the two rivals made a final, frenzied sprint for the finish.

_TRACK ANNOUNCER: __**"We're coming into the final **__**lap of the Western 500, folks. **__**It's gonna be **__**a real nail-**__** biter of a finish! Speed Racer and the Mach 5 are still **__**in the lead. But here comes the Masked Racer in the **__**Shooting Star, coming up hard and fast...He's closing **__**in on the rear bumper of the Mach 5. It's**__** gonna be a **_**_close ending to a thrilling race...The checkered flag is _**_**out, here come the Mach 5 and the Shooting Star. And**__**...And the winner is...SPEED RACER!"**_

A huge roar of approval went up from the jam-packed stands as the sleek white race car crossed the finish line and squealed to a noisy stop. Moments later Speed jumped out of the car and removed his helmet, then waved to the cheering crowds. After an unexpected two-week forced hiatus from the racing circuit, the young man really did feel like he was back on top of the world as he went to accept his trophy.

A smiling Racer X joined him at the podium. "Congratulations, Speed. Nice job, as usual. It looks like you haven't lost your touch," the Masked Racer joked, after the trophies had been presented.

Speed grinned madly. "What, you think I'd let a little blip on the racing radar like Jack Wiley and a week-long layoff, keep me off the track? Not on your life, X," he replied, his eyes shining with excitement. "Don't worry, I learned my lesson about trying your mask on. And, getting into a prank war with Spritle!"

Racer X/Rex chuckled, amused by his younger brother's wry comments. "Well, I'm certainly glad to hear that! I can't have my top competitor and good friend out of action because of some off-the-track nonsense. And---oh, by the way, Speed." X paused. The all-too-familiar tight half-smile twitched at the corners of the masked man's mouth. "I hope you haven't forgotten our bet from this morning. I'll be over at your house tonight, six sharp."

For a brief moment, Speed's mind went blank. He was so overwhelmed by his victory, he'd totally forgotten about that brash bet he'd made with Racer X in the lockerroom before the race! Slowly it dawned on him, as his mind flashed back to the morning's pre-race activities:

_FLASHBACK, Drivers' Lockerroom: __X and Speed, standing in front of Speed's open locker. __Speed has been bragging about his new-found cooking skills, while a bemused X __looks on, chuckling._

_RACER X: You know, Speed. You keep that up, you won't have anything __left for the race today._

_SPEED (doing a little 'trash talking'): Oh, yeah? Well, why don't we see __who's the better driver? I'm willing to bet a homecooked dinner, __I'll get to Victory Lane first. If I win, I'll cook you dinner. If __you __win, YOU cook dinner for me and my family!_

_RACER X: That's a rather unusual bet, Speed. Usually it's the loser, doing __something for the winner. But I certainly won't back down__from a good challenge...You're on!_

_"Speed??"_

The sound of his rival's voice startled the young racer back into reality. "Huh? What's that you say, X...???" Speed blinked several times, grimaced, and shook his head.

X laughed. "Let me guess. Still a little too much Trixie on the mind lately, eh?" he gently needled the younger man. "I was merely reminding you of your own trash talk in the lockerroom this morning, that's all."

Speed felt his face redden. He could hear Trixie's voice in the distance now, as the spunky teen pushed her way through the throng of media and fans into Victory Lane. "No comment on that," he answered, with a mischievous smile. "But don't worry---I've got a big spaghetti dinner planned. With a chocolate cream pie for dessert!" Leaving his mentor and chief rival behind, Speed hoisted his first-place trophy over his shoulder and sprinted off to meet his favorite girl. "See ya at the house, Racer X!"

Rex Racer watched the couple from a distance, and smiled to himself. _Those two certainly are_ _a good fit for each other, _was his immediate thought. _Speed, I'm glad I was able to help you and Trixie out last week.. I said it once, I'll say it again, little brother...Better hold onto her, she's a true gem!_

Then, he walked back to the Shooting Star and hopped in.

99999999999999955555555555999999999999999

Jubilation filled the Racer home that night, as the Racers and their friends celebrated Speed's second professional racing win with a fine spaghetti dinner, all prepared by a very enthusiastic Speed himself. True to his word, the Masked Racer arrived promptly at six o'clock, just as Spritle and Trixie finished helping Mrs. Racer set the table. "Hello!" Racer X exclaimed jovially, as Speed's dad greeted him at the door. "I told Speed after the race this afternoon, I'd be here at six sharp. I hope I'm not late---"

Pops Racer let out a short laugh. "You? Late? Never!" He ushered the family's guest inside the house. "Dinner's just about ready, we're just waiting for the cook to bring out the food."

X smiled. "Sounds like the ladies taught him well, after all."

"Yes, and he's getting better at it. Who knows, maybe one day he'll be as good as—if not better than—his mother." Pops chuckled, then added, "I must admit. It was a good idea I had, making that boy learn how to cook. Now he wants to cook, every chance he gets!"

X laughed. "I suppose you're right, Pops. The way Speed was bragging about his cooking skills in the lockerroom this morning, you'd think he was already a gourmet chef," he replied, as Pops closed the front door behind them.

He followed his host through the living room. Just as the two men stepped into the dining room, a sudden loud _crash!!! _coming from the direction of the kitchen startled them. Moments later X and Pops heard the screech of a terrified chimpanzee; but what was even more terrifying was the sound of Speed's big mouth! _**"CHIM CHIM!!!!! YOU CRAZY CHIMP, GET OUT OF THE KITCHEN!!! YOU'RE A MENACE TO MY DINNER...!!!!!"**_

The next thing Pops and Racer X knew, a screeching, hooting Chim Chim streaked past them, as fast as his furry little chimp legs could carry him. A red-faced Speed followed in hot pursuit, wearing one of his mother's full-sized kitchen aprons and brandishing a large wooden serving spoon in his hand. "You're darn lucky, I'd already drained the pasta!" the new Western 500 champ hollered, glaring as the family pet scampered away.

Then, they heard Trixie playfully admonish her irate boyfriend. _**"Speed Racer! Aren't you supposed to be serving dinner right now??? NOT terrorizing poor Chim Chim---!!!"**_

Then came Speed's sheepish but very animated reply. _**"But, Trixie! He knocked over the pots! What if I hadn't drained the spaghetti yet? Can you imagine, the mess it'd make??"**_

At that, Rex Racer smirked. Some things in this family...Never changed. "Perfectionist, isn't he?" he said, turning to his laughing father.

One good thing about Speed winning today. Nothing could get Pops out of his good mood...Not even, a misbehaving chimp!

Hearing his rival/mentor's voice, Speed suddenly stopped in his tracks and looked up. Quickly, he felt himself blushing again. "Oh! Hi, Racer X! It's six o'clock already? Dinner'll be out in five more minutes," the teen racing star stammered, clearly flustered. "Chim Chim was causing mayhem. As usual."

His elder brother chuckled heartily. "So I heard—and, saw! Take your time, Speed. I'd hate to see you rush a fine spaghetti dinner," X replied, bemused. "I'm quite looking forward to it."

Instantly, Speed broke into a broad grin. "Believe me, X. You won't be disappointed in this dinner," the young man breezily replied, then headed straight back into the kitchen.

Not really knowing, he was face to face with his own long-lost older brother...

About six-fifteen, Speed happily went about the business of serving his family and friends, handing the first plate of steaming spaghetti and meatballs to Racer X. "Here you go, Racer X. Enjoy!" he said, grinning ear to ear.

The Masked Racer nodded, anticipating a good meal. "This looks absolutely delicious, Speed. Thank you."

"Yes, but wait until you get a load of the chocolate cream pie Speed made for dessert," Trixie sweetly chimed in, smiling dreamily at Speed.

Already, Sparky was rubbing his hands together in eager anticipation as his pal set a plate down before him. "Chocolate, smocolate! The pie can wait! I see a heaping plate of spaghetti and meatballs in front of me right now," Speed's ace mechanic exclaimed, picking up his fork and plunging it into the pile of steaming pasta and sauce. "Time to dig in, I say!"

Spritle, however, was up to his usual tricks. He sniffed at the plate, poked at it with his fork several times, then asked suspiciously, "There's no yarn in it. Is there?"

Suddenly, the room fell silent. Spritle soon wished he hadn't said that, as everyone stopped eating and stared in disbelief at the little boy. "Spritle!!!" Mom Racer exclaimed sternly, moments later. "Your brother worked hard on this meal, I would think by now, you had both learned your lesson about such nonsense---!"

"Yeah, Spritle. You hurt my feelings!" Speed playfully complained, feigning a hurt look.

"I think you owe Speed an apology," Trixie added.

Poor Spritle! Boy, did that wisecrack backfire on him, but good! "Hey, come on, Speed! I was just joking!" the little boy cried out, panicky. "I ate your spaghetti last Sunday. Here, I'll show you I was just joking." To prove his point, Spritle loaded up his fork with the pasta and took a nice big bite, savoring every moment. He wasn't kidding about this---he was enjoying his big brother's handiwork. "Ummm!!! Yummy!" the youngster said happily. "This is even better than last week's dinner. Whatchya put into the sauce, Speed?"

A smug-looking Speed smirked. "Ha, ha! That's MY secret, Spritle," he replied with a sly grin, and Spritle shot him a comically annoyed look in return.

Eventually, the dinner talk turned to the day's racing action. A very jovial Pops congratulated Speed on running a very masterful race. Although, the senior Racer noted, there seemed to be a few flaws in Speed's game plan that day. "By the way, son. That was a very impressive race you ran today. But I think you need to work on your turns some," Speed's dad said, over a second helping of spaghetti.

"Yes, I noticed that, too. A few times you looked like you just slid around those corners, Speed," Racer X commented, concurring with Pops' assessment. "In fact, you almost lost control once or twice when you went high on the banking."

Speed made a face, then ran a hand through his hair. "Gee, I guess I'm a little out of practice with that week-long layoff I had," he replied. "But the Mach was also riding a little stiff, Pops."

Pops narrowed his eyes. "Really? How so?"

The young racer shrugged. "Oh, she pulled to the right a lot during the race. Especially in the final lap."

"Pulled to the right, eh?" Pops thoughtfully stroked his chin. "Sounds like, it could be a problem with the wheel alignment.---Sparky!" he suddenly snapped.

Sparky looked up, his mouth full of spaghetti. "Huhh?? You say something, Pops?" he mumbled.

"Yes, I did! Meet me here at the house tomorrow morning, eight sharp. We'll thoroughly check out the Mach 5's steering system and wheel alignment, first thing." Pops paused, then said to Speed, "And, Speed? You be there, too. That way you can show us what the car's doing."

Speed nodded. "Right, Pops." He attacked his plate of spaghetti and meatballs with gusto, unaware that something totally unexpected was about to happen...

Now, the seating plan at the Racer dining room table went something like this: Mom and Pops Racer were at either head of the table...Racer X, Speed, and Trixie sat to Mom's left (in that order)...Across from them sat Sparky, Spritle and Chim Chim. So when Speed attempted to spear one of the meatballs on his plate with his fork, he angled the utensil in such a manner that the piece of meat launched off his plate to his right---right smack into the Masked Racer's face. "Oh!" Speed gasped, a look of horror on his face. That was the last thing he'd wanted to do that evening---beam his guest in the face with of all things, a meatball! "I—I'm real sorry, Racer X. It was an accident!"

Fortunately, X had a very good sense of humor. "Ha, ha! It's okay, Speed. I've been hit by things much worse than a meatball," he laughed, taking the incident in stride. To the amusement of everyone at the table he paused, then proceeded to spear the offending meatball with his fork. Racer X took a bite, then added casually, "By the way, thanks for the extra meatball."

He reached to his right for the linen napkin next to his plate. Speed saw that the man's goggles were splattered with spaghetti sauce, and instinctively moved to help Racer X clean himself off. "Here. Let me get that for you," the young racer said eagerly, picking up his own napkin. Immediately, his hand went up to X's face.

Now, X/Rex was very leery about anyone touching his mask, especially in light of what had happened to Speed two weeks before. Just as Speed was about to wipe the sauce from the mask, his older brother moved his head away, ever so slightly. "Hold still! C'mon, X. I just want to help," Speed grunted.

Unfortunately, the teen's attempt at assisting only made matters worse. In fact, at that point, something totally unexpected happened: the more Speed rubbed, the more the mask seemed to shift until...

_...Until half of the mask came off, exposing its owner's true identity._

Speed was the first to realize, the ramifications of his actions. He stopped abruptly, and gaped in stunned disbelief. Was this who he thought it could be...?? "Rex??" he queried, timidly at first. "Rex? Is that really you??"

At that point, Racer X quickly realized that the moment he'd feared the most, had come. It was time for him, to tell his family the truth about his other life. Slowly he removed the sauce-splattered mask, revealing the ruggedly handsome countenance of an older, more mature Rex Racer. He was probably somewhere in his mid- to late twenties now, but the mahogany brown hair and the deep midnight blue eyes left no doubt about his parentage.

_Rex Racer had finally come home._

The entire room fell into a shocked, hushed silence then. Nobody really knew how to react to this unexpected twist---well, maybe except for Spritle, who already knew his other big brother's secret so he didn't react in the same manner as the rest of the Racers. Mom Racer and Trixie both let out loud gasps of surprise. Sparky's jaw dropped wide; at the same time the mechanic let his fork drop back onto his plate with a _thud! _He was speechless, to say the least...

Probably the most shocked of all, though, were Speed and his dad. For several minutes Speed sat rooted to his chair, unable to believe who he was looking at. "Oh, my God..._Rex!!!_" the teenaged racer cried out, his eyes widening in shocked disbelief. He immediately got up, and nearly tackled his elder brother. "Rex!!! It _IS_ you!!! I knew it!" He gave a surprised Rex the biggest hug he could muster up, then dropped back down into his chair, almost in a daze.

Even his father was too stunned to move. He was so stunned, the rest of his family and their guests thought he would have a heart attack. "I don't believe it! I don't...I CAN'T!...believe it," Pops Racer murmured shakily. "Please, someone tell me, my eyes aren't playing some cruel joke---"

Rex Racer sighed, and shook his head. The cat was really let out of the bag this time. The all-too-familiar tight half-smile creased the corners of his lips, and he stood up to his full height in order to look his father straight in the eye. "No, Pops, your eyes aren't deceiving you. It's really me," the man otherwise known as Racer X said softly.

For a few minutes tension hung heavy in the air. Then suddenly, Pops just...well, kind of exploded. He wasn't sure whether he should hug his eldest son, or kill him! His eyes widened until they nearly popped out of his head, and his face turned a bright red. _"Rexxx!!!! You little devil, you had us all thinking you were dead!!!" _he bellowed, loud enough to make Speed, Trixie, Sparky and Spritle wince in comic alarm while a screeching Chim Chim scrambled under the table for safety. _"Where have you been all this time???"_

Although the rest of the family cringed at the burly car designer's loud outburst, Rex remained unruffled. He'd learned a lot about Pops over the years, having secretly observed via the mask, how the older man had handled Speed and his many capers. Whereas he'd been a stubborn, somewhat arrogant teen once, the more mature man in Rex now just took Pops' rantings in stride. "Oh, I've been around," he answered, reaching for the cup of tea in front of him.

His mother immediately got up, somewhat teary-eyed and dazed. She never thought, she'd see the day when her eldest boy would return home. "Oh, Rex. I thought...I thought, we'd lost you for good," Mrs. Racer said, reaching to hug her long-lost son. Tears of joy filled her eyes, as she scanned the man standing before her. "Just look at you! Such a handsome fellow..."

"Yes, just like the rest of the men in this family, I suppose." Rex warmly embraced his mother, giving her a kiss on the cheek. "I'm sorry, Mom. I didn't want any of you to get hurt, because of what I've done---"

That certainly did little to placate his father. If anything, his son's vague answer only served to rile an already-irate Pops further. "Then why did you let us think you'd died, and we went through the hell of burying you???" he demanded loudly. "Why didn't you tell us anything? That hurt even worse than...than...Than, your walking out on us six years ago!!!"

Still, Rex refused to take his father's bait. "I told you, Pops. I had my reasons. I just didn't want any of you to get hurt."

Speed, Trixie, and Sparky, meanwhile, looked on in alarm. The three teens were beginning to wonder, if this were the start of the next world war! "Ohh, man! This could get ugly," Speed muttered, under his breath.

Sparky swallowed hard. "Yeah. World War Three, Speed. The roar hear 'round the dinnertable!" he quipped, making a face at the thought.

Trixie fidgeted slightly in her chair. "Ummm...You boys could be right. I just hope the neighbors don't hear Pops!" She winced.

Her boyfriend grimaced. "Aww, don't worry, Trix. They're used to 'em by now."

Pops was still ranting on, oblivious to the rest of the family's worried looks. "---I want an explanation, right now! What do you mean by, you 'didn't want us to get hurt'? And no more of these vague 'neither here nor there' answers, either!'"

The more agitated his father became, the more Rex stood his ground and maintained his cool. "Look, I'm not at liberty to tell you everything. But let's just say that if certain people had found out who I really am and who I'm related to, they wouldn't hesitate to kill you. All of you!"

Now, that definitely got Pops' attention---for the moment. His face turned three shades of white, and he looked a little shaken by his son's dire warning. Mom Racer, too, reacted strongly to the implied threat, gasping in alarm. Spritle worriedly grabbed onto Chim Chim, who had just re-emerged from beneath the table...Only to become alarmed again. This...didn't sound very good, at all.

Speed, who had been listening intently to the heated conversation, quickly began to see the whole picture. It started to make sense to him now. How many times had he been the target of some foul play on and off the track recently, and the Masked Racer had always been in the nick of time to pull his sorry butt out of whatever mess he'd gotten himself into? "Hey, wait a minute here," he suddenly cut in. "You _ARE _some kind of secret agent. Aren't you?"

His older brother turned, and smiled at him. "You know, Speed? You're just like your brother Spritle. Sharp as a tack, hit the nail right on the head," Rex joked, chuckling lightly. "I couldn't fool you for long. Could I?"

Speed shot him a funny look. "No. The way you act, the way you drive....Even that tight little half-smile of yours. The one that's been driving Pops nuts since you pulled me from Wiley's mansion two weeks back!...It all gave you away," he retorted, a slight twinge of tension in his voice. "I mean...You could've won the Trans-Country Race outright, but you let me win. _Why__ ???"_

Rex shrugged. "Maybe I thought, it was time for someone else to have a turn at the win," was his casual reply.

He paused for a moment, then the expression on his face turned dead serious. He walked back over to Speed, and lay a gloved hand on his younger brother's shoulder. "Speed, listen to me. When I left home, I vowed two things to myself. One was to become a champion driver, and the second was to watch out for you. I had a feeling, you'd eventually go into racing. It's in our blood, we can't deny it," Rex said softly, gazing intently at Speed. "But you and I both know, there are people out there who'd do anything to get ahead. Including, harming you. And I don't intend to let that kind of thing happen. To any of you!" He sighed, then added quietly, "That's why, I did what I did."

Trixie and Sparky, meanwhile, continued to listen attentively to the ongoing discussion. Personally, they were both happy for Speed and his family---if there'd been one thing the young racing star had wanted so badly, it'd been to know what had really happened to his elder brother since "The Argument". Now, Speed's one real wish had finally come true, and his best girl and ace mechanic were there to share in the moment. Still, Trixie found herself mulling over something that Rex had said earlier. "Racer X---oops! I mean, _Rex_!" she hastily corrected herself. "I was wondering...Just what did you mean by, 'Speed's just like his little brother? Sharp as a tack?'"

Silence. Trixie glanced over at a rather-nervous Spritle, and immediately became suspicious. "Oh, wait! Never mind, I think I got my answer.---Spritle? Did you already know about all this?" Trixie suddenly asked.

Uh-oh! Looks like Spritle got busted...by Speed's girl! "Uhhh...Maybe," Spritle gulped, then frantically tried to duck beneath the tablecloth.

"Not so fast, Spritle!!!" his father suddenly yelled at the top of his lungs, glaring at his quaking youngest boy. "You knew about Rex, and you didn't tell us??? Why, you little...! I oughta ground you for this...!!!"

"AAAAAAHHH!!!! AAAAAAHHH!!!!" wailed Spritle.

_Hoo hoo hoo eeeek!!!!! _went Chim Chim.

Here, Mom suddenly cut in, intent on defusing the situation before things got even further out of hand. "Now, Dragon. No breathing fire at the dinnertable!" she admonished her husband, giving him a very cross stare. "I'm sure Spritle has a perfectly good explanation, and he will explain himself if only you give him a chance to speak. Right, Spritle?" Mrs. Racer smiled warmly at her youngest son.

"I do have a good reason!" Spritle stammered, once again back in his chair. "I promised Racer X----er, I mean, Rex!---I wouldn't tell anybody who he was. I had to keep my promise, Pops. I don't want any bad guys, coming after us!"

"I appreciate that, Spritle. Thank you," his big brother responded, with a wide smile. Then to his parents, he took up the story. "You see, Pops, Mom. The night Spritle stayed over at my place, he bumped into me during a sleepwalking episode. I usually don't wear the mask to bed and there wasn't a lampshade handy, so I was...Shall I dare say, exposed?" Rex chuckled at his own pun. Then, putting a hand across his left shoulder and raising an eyebrow he added, "Not to mention, that my birthmark gave me away."

Pops leaned back in his chair, and chuckled too. After the sudden shock of seeing his eldest son in the flesh after so many years, he was more relaxed. Yet so many questions..."Hah! Your mother always did say, that cloverleaf would bring you good luck," he retorted. "I guess it did, after all."

Just then, Mom Racer decided it was time to bring out dessert. She motioned to her middle son. "Speed, dear. Perhaps we should bring in the pie now," she suggested sweetly.

Speed nodded, and grinned. "I'll go get it," he offered, rising from his chair. "I'm glad I decided to go with a chocolate cream pie. Now we really have something to celebrate!"

His mother agreed. "Yes. Your brother Rex's return!"

Instantly, Spritle's little ears detected a possible extra goodie. " Does this mean we get extra whipped cream?" the little boy asked innocently, eliciting a round of laughter from the adults.

Speed scowled at him. "You wish!"

He disappeared quickly into the kitchen. Speed reappeared five minutes later, carrying an enormous chocolate cream pie and an equally-large bowl of freshly-made whipped cream. The very sight, made everyone at the table "ooh!" and "ahh!" over it. "OK, everyone. Dig in!" Speed happily called out, passing out the dessert plates.

Over dessert, Rex continued with his lengthy tale. Basically, he gave his family the same information that he'd discussed with Spritle after the littlest Racer's sleepwalking incident. Everyone listened, enthralled by what the racer/secret agent had to say, although with some trepidation and concern. "...So, that's about it. That's how I became involved with Interpol. I hope you all can understand now, why I can't come home anymore as Rex Racer," Rex said quietly, gazing at his very attentive audience. "But I must give you the same warning, I gave Spritle---this conversation _cannot_ go beyond this room. While we're in the house and I'm certain no one else is lurking about, you can call me Rex. But in public (and yes, even over the telephone), I'm still Racer X or the Masked Racer. This holds especially true for you, Speed." Rex scrutinized his young brother with the eye of a trained law enforcement official.

Speed blinked, perplexed. "B-but...But why, Rex?" he asked. "We're brothers---"

"I know that, Speed. But right now, the public is better off not knowing that we're related. Specifically for the very reasons, I've just mentioned."

Pops sat back in his chair, taking in all the conversation between his two oldest sons. It was still very unsettling (confounding, even!) to think, that Rex had never died and yet here he was, dining with the rest of the family! "I still don't understand, the need for all this secrecy--"

Rex fell silent for a brief moment. At length, he spoke up in a quiet tone of voice. "I hadn't intended to tell you so much, but you, Mom, and the others do have a right to know. Trust me on this, Pops. Your lives will depend on how well, I can maintain my cover. As for you, Speed...?" Rex paused, smiled, then gave his younger brother a knowing wink. "...We need to prevent your curiosity, from getting you in trouble again!"

A loud round of laughter erupted at his comment. Speed, however, didn't think it was very funny, although the memories of Jack Wiley and his hoodlums had all but completely faded from his mind. "Hey!!! Rex, c'mon! That wasn't called for!" he complained good-naturedly. At the same time, he shot a comically annoyed look at his smirking elder brother.

Naturally, Spritle couldn't help but chime in. "Oh yes, it was!" he giggled, and Chim Chim gleefully hooted his agreement.

Speed started to say something in reply, but a warning stare from his father made him think better of his actions. "Speed, Spritle, that's enough! I want to hear the rest of what your brother has to say," Pops rapsed testily.

He looked over at Rex. "Well?"

Rex looked his father directly in the face. "That's basically the whole story, Pops," he answered in a soft voice.

The room grew eerily quiet. It was as if something special was about to happen, and everyone around the table could sense it. Mrs. Racer, Trixie, Speed, Spritle, Chim Chim, and Sparky all held their collective breath, wondering what would happen next. Pops and Rex were reacting to each one like fighters, each feeling the other out before the first blow...

After some considerable silent soul-searching, Rex decided to make the first move. "Actually, there is one other thing I've been meaning to say. But I never knew if I'd ever get the chance to," he said, slowly rising from his chair. He started towards Pops. "Pops, you and I both know that we both made major mistakes some six or so years ago. You were right, I was brash and foolish back then...I'm sorry for walking out on the family like that." He paused, then unexpectedly thrust a gloved hand out to his father in a gesture of reconciliation. "Care to let bygones, be bygones?"

His generous gesture for once left Pops speechless! The former pro wrestler-turned-car designer's eyes widened in shock and disbelief. He opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out; he was too stunned by his son's selfless gesture. For far too long, Pops had been tortured by guilt over the argument that had driven his eldest son away when Rex had been eighteen. Then, word that Rex had died in a terrible crash...Followed by the family in mourning as a casket holding what was thought to be Rex's remains, was lowered into a freshly-dug grave...Pops had never forgiven himself for any of that. Now, he had the chance to rid himself of all that nagging, erroneous guilt he'd been carrying around inside him, for the past six years...

His eyes watering with relief and a sparkle of fatherly pride that somehow had been missing, he rose from his chair and stepped up to meet Rex. "Let bygones be bygones?" Pops repeated slowly, fighting his growing emotions. "Well, of course I'll forgive you! But _I_ should be the one apologizing to you, Rex. It was what _I _said to you, that drove you away from us in the first place. I'm terribly, terribly sorry. And I want you to know...I love you, and I'm damn proud of you." He gripped Rex's proffered hand tightly. Then suddenly, the man pulled Rex into a devastating bear hug, and held the younger man close for some time. At the same time the floodgates opened, and tears of joy just rained down his cheeks. "Rex...My son...Welcome home," Pops whispered, paying no mind to the flood of tears rolling off his jowls.

In the background, Mom Racer looked on---and openly wept with joy. Overcome by her emotions, she watched as father and first-born son made their peace with the past. She was truly blessed to have such a family---and even more proud of both Pops and Rex at that moment. Without saying a word, she soon joined the two senior Racer men in the historic moment, embracing both of them and letting her eyes do all the talking she needed. Yes, the prodigal son had finally returned---if only for a matter of hours.

Speed stood there watching the celebration, one arm around a smiling Trixie. Hiis eyes shone with happiness, through a watery mist. He still couldn't believe it---Rex was alive, well, and kicking bad guys' butts from here to who knew where. Not to mention, giving him a good run for the money on the racetrack, too. Spritle and Chim Chim were dancing about, shouting gleefully. "Hooray! Hooray! Rex is baaack!!!"

Not to be outdone or left out of the party, Sparky sniffled back a tear and wiped his eyes on his shirt sleeve. "I just love a happy family reunion!" he joked. He paused, then suddenly hollered out to the Racers, "Hey, what about me, Pops? Doesn't the mechanic get a hug, too??"

Before his father could reply, Rex Racer glanced up, and laughed. "Well, get over here, Sparky. In fact...why don't all of you come here?" Speed and Spritle's big brother replied, his eyes sparkling with happiness as well. Behind him came his father's booming laugh, and his mother's tearful murmurings. "There's plenty of hugs to go around, for everybody!" Grinning crazily, Sparky immediately bounded over. He was followed in the merriment by an excited, laughing Speed and Trixie, plus Spritle and Chim Chim. They piled around Rex and his parents in one massive swarm.

Tears, joy, laughter, and one massive group hug. The Racer family reunited---at last.

Later, as his brother prepared to slip his mask on for the ride home, Speed managed to pull Rex aside for a private moment. He wasn't exactly sure of what he was going to tell him, but he knew he wanted to say something. "Rex, ahh...Before you go, there's something I wanna say," Speed began a little hesitantly. His blue eyes were still misting, even after the emotional evening had ended. "All this time...While you were away..." The teen racer bit down on his lower lip and lowered his head, fighting back his raw emotions. "What I wanna say, Rex, is that I missed you. We all did. Yet you were here all the time looking out for us, and neither Pops nor Mom knew it. So I just want to thank you. Especially after last weekend, pulling my hide out of that fire at Wiley's place." Speed raised his head, and gazed at his elder brother in tearful gratitude. "How can I ever repay you, especially now that I know it really _is_ you under that mask??"

A smiling Rex shook his head. "That's not necessary, Speed. After all, that's what brothers do for each other. And we are brothers, despite my mask. Always remember that," he replied quietly.

Speed nodded. "Will you ever come home, to stay?"

There was an obviously painful pause. Then, "I can't answer that question right now, Speed. I don't know if I ever will be able to," Rex answered, a trace of sadness in his voice. "But, know this. I'll always be there, if you need me." He slipped on his mask, then added with a light chuckle, "But I'd much rather you try to stay _out_ of trouble!"

At that point, Speed's emotions finally got the best of him. Tears streaming down his face, he literally threw himself into his elder brother's arms. Rex responded by embracing the younger man warmly, in a brotherly hug. "Rex. I-I wish you could stay..."

"I know, Speed. But you know, I can't." A sympathetic Rex tenderly stroked his brother's back. "I will see you at the starting line of our next race, however."

Mention "race," and boy did Speed's outlook brighten in a hurry. Almost immediately he pulled himself together, looked up into his brother's masked face, and grinned. "Yeah! And I'm gonna beat you. Fair and square this time!" the teen racing star playfully boasted, his mood lifting considerably at the thought.

That elicited another throaty chuckle from the Masked Racer. "Does that mean, I get another spaghetti dinner?" Rex needled, please to see his younger brother and chief competitor back in high spirits.

Speed's face broke into a really goofy grin. "If that means having you here without the mask on...Then heck yeah, I'd cook dinner for you after every race. Win, or lose!" he exclaimed happily.

His older brother smiled tautly. "Then it's a deal. I'll see you at the track, Speed," Rex replied. He gave Speed another meaningful embrace, then set off to say his goodbye and thank-you to his parents and the others.

Then, he took his leave.

Speed Racer stood in the front doorway of his house, gazing out into the night. His eyes brimming with tears of happiness, he watched as his beloved older brother drove off in the Shooting Star. Knowing that Rex had been racing with him all along, guiding him...At times, physically protecting him...Made the fact that the man would always have to hide behind a black mask, that much easier to deal with. "Godspeed, Rex," the young man murmured, unaware of light steps coming up behind him.

He suddenly flinched, as he felt a feminine touch on his left shoulder. It was Trixie, coming up behind him and laying a comforting hand upon his shoulder. "Speed? Are you all right?" she inquired, concerned.

Speed smiled, despite the tears of joy running down his cheeks. He gently placed his right hand atop Trixie's, and gazed dreamily out at the moon outside. "Yeah, Trixie, I'm fine," he answered in that soft, boyish voice of his. He choked back his tears, trying to collect his thoughts.

A few minutes later, he turned to his best girl and navigator. "You know something, Trix? The night Rex played Cupid for us so that we could go to the drive-in...That night I realized, just how special the Masked Racer really was to me. After the Trans-Country Race I kinda suspected, and I'm sure Pops suspected, too..." Speed paused, and once more gazed up into the night sky. Trixie huddled close to him, sensing his thoughts. "...We weren't just watching my brother in action. That's my guardian angel out there, Trixie. He may be Racer X or the Masked Racer to the racing world...But in here---" Speed pointed to his chest, "...He'll always be, Rex Racer. My brother."

He took her by the hand then, and started to lead her back inside. "C'mon. It's been a long day," Speed said with a yawn. "I think, Mom and Pops'll be wanting to turn in soon."

They went inside, holding hands as couples in love did. Speed shut the front door, and soon afterwards all the lights in the Racer house went dark. But not before Speed sent this silent thank-you to his beloved brother:

_**Thanks for everything, Rex.---Or should I say...'Cupid' X???**_

_FINIS_


	17. Chapter 17

_NOTE: Well, gang, this is it. So this two-story arc has reached its end. Thanks to those who have read and/or reviewed. Muchas gracias goes especially to my co-author/editor Janee for her usual brilliant input and support (especially in transition scenes). Lots of special thanks to Roadrunner74 and Gentlelady for their input and comments (especially their hilarious comments on Speed's efforts to do housework and the pranks that he and Spritle pulled on one another)!_

_But not to leave dear ol' Rex out...Let's just say, it looks like big brother gets the last word in._

_EPILOGUE: Some Final Thoughts From The Masked Racer_

_**You know, it seems that fate has some very odd ways of bringing a family together.**_

_**When I left both my persona of Rex Racer and my entire family behind that fateful day at the Sunny Downs track only to later become Racer X, international man of mystery (as some sports announcers nowadays are found of calling me---and not always in a positive light), little did I know how things would turn out for all of us as time marched on. Nor did I ever think how my rescue of my younger brother Speed from a near-fatal house fire two weeks ago, would be the catalyst for bringing me back into the Racer family fold (if only for a moment that I truly wish, could have been frozen in time). The chance to spend time with my two younger brothers and my parents again, the opportunity to get to know little Spritle better (although Spritle's sleepwalking and the post-race hijinks at the dinnertable did make for some rather awkward moments on my part)...The look of shock and disbelief on my father's face that Sunday night post-Western 500, the tears of joy running down everyone's faces as Pops and I finally put the past behind us and made up, putting an end to what could be termed the ugliest chapter in Racer family history...Then the emotional embrace that Speed and I shared afterwards, as only brothers could...**_

_**...I couldn't possibly have imagined a more fitting conclusion to an **__**otherwise wild adventure.**_

_**Do I have any regrets about the way I left my family six years ago? Absolutely, it was probably the worst mistake I could have ever made. Do I regret what I did afterwards, shrouding my true identity behind the monikers "Racer X" or "The Masked Racer"? No, I don't---given my current status in the international community as an agent of Interpol, it's better this way. I know my family will be safe from those who will stop at nothing to silence me. (And it also makes it that much easier for me to keep a close watch on Speed this way, too!)**_

_**Racer X, X, Masked Racer, Racer 'Hex,' 'Harbinger of Boom'!...Fierce competitor, champion driver, loyal elder brother, prodigal son...Call me what you will. Just **__**don't**__** call me, 'Cupid X'!!**_

_**See you at the finish line of our next race, Speed.**_

_**Rex**__**Racer **__**(aka Racer X)**_


End file.
